Going Courting
by Arysta
Summary: Set: Ten years after the movie. Jareth decides it's time to fetch his bride, but convincing her of it is not going to be easy!
1. Going Courting -- Part One

Going Courting -- Part One  
by ACJ Leveille  


Author's Note: This is my first Labyfic, and the first time I've posted something before I've written the end of it. I hope you enjoy, and I love getting emails - oh yeah, and PLEASE review if you read!  
******************************************************************  
"Here, this are for you," a well-dressed man said as he handed Sarah a large bouquet of flowers.   
  
She accepted them, nodding curtly as she picked up the ringing phone. The delivery boy turned and left, and Sarah set the flowers on a corner of her desk. She dealt with the caller's problem quickly and professionally, then stopped to look at the bouquet.  
  
The flowers were a mixture of blooms, most of them Sarah couldn't even begin to identify. Searching for a card, she brushed aside two pink buds and found a single black rose. She let out a gasp, letting the flowers go and laughing. "It's beautiful!" She told herself. "I wonder who they're for?"   
  
She plucked the card from the bunch. It was plain white, and written in a flowing, generous script. "To Miss Williams, From a Secret Admirer."  
  
Laughing a little, almost self-consciously, Sarah got out her lunch and went down to the cafeteria. She couldn't resist taking a last look back, glancing at the flowers one last time as she went into the elevator.  
Luncheon finished, Sarah returned to her desk. She found all six of the women in her department gathered around it.  
  
"It's gorgeous!" One exclaimed, fingering a blossom.  
  
"Who did you get it from?" Another asked when she noticed Sarah's presence. She had an avaricious look on her face that made Sarah want to shiver.  
  
Sarah clasped her hand to her chest in mock horror. "You mean you haven't read the card yet?"   
  
The woman simpered, clearly indicating that she had. Sarah held back her growl of annoyance, sliding into her seat and looking at the women pleasantly. They got the hint and moved off, thought it took some more time than others.   
  
Time passed. At one point, Sarah gave up the pretense of work and just stared at the flowers. They were haunting her. Who could have sent them?   
  
She touched one lightly with her fingernail, brushing it's fuzzy green leaf aside to see the bright blue flower more clearly. It looked like a star - didn't resemble any flower she had ever seen anywhere. She touched another one, an orange-ish yellow one with a matte black inner cup. Her brow furrowed as she tried to remember where she had seen one like it.  
  
"Strange flowers," a male voice commented, teasingly.   
  
Sarah looked up. "Oh, Marcus," she said, flustered. "Did we have a meeting scheduled or anything?" She shifted through the papers on her desktop, looking for her planner.   
  
Marcus settled onto the corner of the desk. He was watching the vase with curious eyes, but then he looked at Sarah. "What, I can't have a reason to come and see my favorite designer?" He asked, a lilting tone to his voice and laughter in his eyes.  
  
Sarah laughed, "Very funny, Marcus. What do you want?" She looked up at her sometimes-partner. He was taller than average, with sandy blond hair that was styled to perfection. He wore a navy suit today, his pinstripe shirt blindingly white in contrast. Marcus liked to joke, and had a smile to tempt a priestess. He even had dimples!  
  
He ducked his head at Sarah's question. "You see right through me, don't you?" He asked.  
  
"We've been working together for more than a year now!" Sarah chuckled. "I'm sorry to say - you don't dazzle me anymore!"   
  
Marcus' mouth curled down in a charming sulk. "I'll have to find something that will dazzle you," he threatened. He clapped his hands on his knee. "Do you want to get something to eat with me, after work?" He asked, seemingly spontaneously.   
  
Sarah wasn't fooled. She glanced at the way his fingers caressed one of the leaves of her bouquet. She smiled benignly, not wanting his interest. "Thanks, Marcus, but I've got plans - my baby brother is coming over for a night on the town!" She confided.  
  
"Baby brother?" Marcus looked blank.  
  
"Yeah, he's almost twelve, and he's a real neat guy. We're planning on going to see some movie or another." Sarah waggled her hand in the air. She couldn't for the life of her remember what the movie was - even though she had already bought the tickets!   
  
"Oh, well," Marcus said, standing, coughing a bit. "I'll leave you to your work, then." He turned and walked toward the elevator - he worked on the next floor up, in the Layout department.   
  
"What was it you came to talk to me about?" Sarah called loudly.  
  
Marcus turned, looking at her. He shook himself. "Oh, just something about the Peabody account - I'll catch up with you on Monday before the noon presentation, okay?"   
  
Sarah nodded, watching the elevator doors close on him.   
  
She turned to the flowers, smiling bemusedly. She had known for months now that Marcus was sort of interested, but she had no desire to date anyone. It was easier to pretend she didn't see his advances than to explain to him why she wasn't interested. Especially when her mind kept throwing pictures of a certain platinum-haired king at her.   
  
"I won't think about it," Sarah told herself fiercely, squinching her eyes shut. "It's over." She opened them, staring at the flowers that Marcus had sent her.  
  
"I wonder where he got them?" She wondered aloud. "They really are beautiful!" She smiled, then got to work.  
*****************************************************************  
"Cheeky brat!" A strong curse came from an alcove in the office. A man stepped forth, invisible to all present. He wore tight dark pants and a white ruffled shirt, and his blond-white hair cascaded down the elegantly lank planes of his face.   
  
With an exasperated sigh, he rolled a crystal between his palms and bit out a command, and was striding across his throne room in moments, collapsing onto his stark throne.  
  
He contemplated what he had seen. The brat, tacitly claiming his gift as his own! He had half a mind to send a bog-drenched goblin to plague him! That wouldn't solve the problem, though. At least Sarah had refused the man's pitiful advances. But what was he to do now?   
  
Sarah had grown into a beauty, dark and mysterious. She was slim and spirited, and now, mature enough to handle the feelings that he could bring to life in her soul.  
  
His soul mate!  
  
Jareth slammed his fist down onto the unyielding stone of his throne, not even wincing at the pain that reverberated through his very bones at the contact. Long years he had waited, patiently letting her grow up and become a woman - capable of seeing the love he was offering her. She was no longer a wilted school-girl, and it was time that she realized her destiny, he told himself.   
  
He rolled his eyes, thinking of the hand-picked flowers he had sent her - a delicate mixture of smells and magic blooms, silently proclaiming his love, affection, desire and even his unwavering loyalty. Flowers that shouted to Sarah what he dare not say aloud, even in the dark recesses of the Labyrinth he ruled.   
  
With a wordless growl he hurled the crystal across the room, the trapped image of his bouquet flying through the air, smashing into the stone walls at the other side, dust raining down on a pile of sleeping goblins.   
  
One snorted, rousing slightly before going back to sleep.  
  
Jareth regained his composure, smiled coldly to himself, and shifted on the rough throne. "Now, what will be next for you, Sarah?" He wondered aloud.  
TO BE CONTINUED..............  



	2. Going Courting -- Part Two

Going Courting Part Two  
By ACJ Leveille   


Author's Note:  
As always, I don't own the Labyrinth, or anyone in it. 

* * *

"Jareth, why are you doing this?" The voice came from the Reflecting Pool. Jareth groaned, shutting his eyes. "If you want her," the voice continued, "why don't you just take her?"   
  
The Goblin King remained ominously silent.  
  
"It would be easy! She's not expecting anything anymore! You've waited long enough!"  
  
"Shut up!" The King bit out coldly, glaring at the pool. It burbled a bit, but spoke no more.  
  
Jareth stood, stalking through the clearing and into the Labyrinth proper. "I don't know why I even bother coming here," he muttered.  
  
The throne room was filled with screaming goblins. The King rolled his eyes, kicked his way through them, and headed to his study, where he flopped onto a long divan, resting his booted feet on the arm. He flung his hand over his eyes.   
  
"Sarah, Sarah, Sarah," he mused, "What am I going to do with you?"   
  
He searched his mind for a fitting courting gift. The flowers he had sent - a human tradition - had gone dreadfully awry. Perhaps a more Fae gift? An illusion, perhaps? Ah, yes, he had the perfect idea. He sat up, crafting his thought in his head, forming the scene into a perfect crystalline bubble - the he disguised it.   
  
In a blink he was in Sarah's apartment. It was dark and empty. He let his invisible, insubstantial form solidify and walked into her bedroom. He set down the disguised illusion, and, unable to resist, let one gloved finger trail lightly over pillow that she slept on. He inhaled her scent, and closed his eyes in painful pleasure. "Sarah," he whispered, and vanished.   


* * *

  
"Come on, Toby, time for bed!" Sarah said, tossing her younger brother a pillow and blankets.  
  
The boy stifled a yawn, catching the bedding. "I'm bushed," he admitted.  
  
Sarah smiled. She hadn't seen Toby often since she had left home - some weekends while she was in college, maybe once every couple of months after that. He had grown up, was almost as tall as she was now!  
  
"Hey, Sarah?" He called, throwing the last blanket into place on the couch. "Thanks for inviting me!" He looked down shyly.  
  
"You're welcome," Sarah said with a smile. She had the urge to reach out and ruffle his hair, but she new that he was too old for that.  
  
Toby bedded down, falling asleep almost instantly. Sarah smiled at her sibling, and headed into her room.  
  
It wasn't until she had showered and prepared for bed that she noticed the strange object that had appeared on her pillow.  
  
It was a rose. A gorgeous, perfect black rose. It was made of glass.  
  
"How on Earth?" She asked, bemused. Reaching out, she touched it. It was warm, as if someone had recently held it.   
  
A slight smile tinged her lips as she felt the edge of one finely-crafted petal with a tentative fingertip. The light from her lamp glinted brightly. Sarah cradled the rose in her hand, then noticed something.   
  
"What's this?" She wondered, squinting to see better. Deep inside the rose was a small marble. She looked harder, trying to figure out what it was - and what it was doing there.   
  
Then she was swept away.   
  


* * *

Jareth laughed, looking into his crystal. "Oh, sweet Sarah," he smiled, eyes fixed on her bedroom. He watched her turn the rose in her hand, and then the illusion was triggered.  
  
A rapt expression settled on her face, a wistful smile curling up the corners of her lips as the spell took her.  
  
Jareth's fingers lightly caressed the crystal image, then, with a thought, he looked inside the illusion.  
  


* * *

The world grew dark, then light again. For a second, Sarah thought that the electricity had gone out, but then she realized she wasn't in her bedroom anymore.  
  
The rose fell from her hand, bouncing somehow, and rolling off into the shadows of the room - forgotten. She looked around, seeing a merrily crackling fireplace and a table laid out with steaming, covered dishes. The room wasn't huge, had two chairs in a far corner, with a chess table set up. One whole wall was a huge swath of velvety blue drapery. A window, and a big one, presumably. The room smelled sweet, of incense, and the lighting was dim and sensual. There was no door.   
  
"What the?" She stood in the middle of the room, on a thick rug, wearing the jeans and sweatshirt she had changed into before Toby had arrived. She reached out, touching the fabric of the drapes. Thick and velvety. She tugged on them, pulling, trying to see the window behind them.   
  
Fabric rustled, but she couldn't manage to move enough to get to the window. Fearful frustration began to surface, but she tamped it down. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I can handle this," she told herself. She held her hand to her head, feeling woozy. How had she gotten here, again? Where had she been before?   
  
Turning around, she realized that someone had been in the room while her back had been turned. She hadn't noticed anything, heard anything, but the covers had been removed from the waiting dishes, and a single place set at one end of the table. Curious, she crept closer, looking into the silver dishes.  
  
Beef, chicken, various kinds of vegetables. Some things she couldn't identify. A pitcher had appeared, and it contained a sparkling pink-red liquid. Thirsty, she poured some into the goblet set beside the plate. She sat down to drink it, sipping slowly while she contemplated what she was going to do. She had to get back - get home to Toby.   
  
Again, she forced down the panic welling it's way up in her chest, and focused on what she was tasting. Whatever it was, it was sweet, but it wasn't wine. It didn't have the alcoholic bite. It tasted more like juice, one that slid down her throat easily and rested lightly in her stomach.  
  
She looked down at her plate, frowning as she caught a glimpse of something peeking over the edge of the plate. She shifted the dish. Pewter, it felt like.  
  
A rose. A single, perfect black rose. She touched the flower. It was real. She lifted it in her hand, turning it over and over. Something in her mind clicked, an almost audible connection. She gasped, jumping to her feet. Her chair tumbled to the floor in her haste.   
  
Rose gripped in one hand, she tore at the curtains, pulling until they fell down in a giant heap, and the window was revealed. An empty, black hole stared back at her. A familiar lack of anything.   
  
Her hand clenched, the rose crumpling helplessly. Her teeth gritted and the shout rang out through the inky darkness.   
  
"Goblin King!"   
  


* * *

TO BE CONTINUED ………………………….  



	3. Going Courting -- Part Three

Going Courting -- Part Three   
by ACJ Leveille

Author's Note:  
This is the third installment -- which I assume you know if you're reading it! I expect to post two more "chapters" next weekend -- I'll try to sneak a bit in during the week, but I don't know if I'll have time. Anyway -- standard disclaimers, I don't owe anyone or anything. I hope you enjoy, and please leave feedback -- or email me at arysta@bigfoot.com, if you'd prefer. I'm really interested in knowing what readers think about this story. Thanks! 

* * *

"Goblin King!"   
  
He heard the cry, even in the depths of his castle. It echoed through both the air and the crystal he was watching her through.  
  
A smile curled his lips and with an agile flip he sent the crystal whirling through the air. With a blink, he was dressed in white, a truly elegant royal costume.  
  
"I'm coming, my love," he said.  
  
Seconds later, an owl flew out the palace window, soaring high in the orange-red sky of the Labyrinth.  
  


* * *

Sarah growled deep in her throat, feeling as if she was fifteen again, and not liking the feeling at all. "Did you hear me, you jerk?" She called out, leaning as much over the thick stone of the windowsill as she dared.   
  
There was nothing. She stepped back, glaring at the window, and the pile of fallen fabric at her feet. She kicked at it aimlessly. The room seemed unreal, suddenly, the food, the fire, the rug, everything. It was a sham. An illusion, just as the dance had been. But this illusion had no scary masks to remind her of it's unreality. It was eerily romantic.   
  
"What's his trap this time?" She asked aloud, forehead creasing. She stared out into the darkness. "What's he up to." She had no doubt that it was the Goblin King that she had defeated long years ago. More than ten now, she thought absently.   
  
She had grown up, had matured. She wasn't afraid of his petty cruelty anymore. She hadn't even been sure she believed in him anymore. "Teaches you what you know," she laughed to herself.   
  
Her hair, still long, pulled back in a ponytail, started to tremble, as did the sweatshirt she was wearing. For a moment Sarah was confused, but then she felt the cool kiss of the breeze on her face. Wind. She looked up. The darkness was still there, but there was a speck far away, growing closer.   
  
An owl. The Goblin King.  
  
She took an offensive pose, lifting her chin with a conscious effort. She would show him - he wasn't messing with a child now, but a woman grown. A woman who knew how to deal with difficult and disagreeable men.   
  
The owl flew into the room, wheeling around the four corners before disappearing. In its place stood the Goblin King. He looked as haughty and dangerous as ever, and Sarah felt the same old fear she had experienced before, when she had confronted and beaten him. He smiled at her. "So I'm a jerk, am I?" He asked, his tone scarily pleasant.   
  
Sarah watched him warily, wanting to pull her arms around herself for protection, but unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing her uneasiness. "What do you want with me?" She demanded, lifting her chin still higher, staring into his blue eyes. She had never noticed the color of his eyes before….  
  
"Why, whatever do you mean?" He asked, raising one hand to his chest in a patently false gesture. "It's been a long time, Sarah."   
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't get the invitation to the reunion," she said dryly, feeling her hands start to shake with the stress.   
  
He laughed, throwing his head back, letting that platinum hair cascade down his back, the long locks dancing teasingly with his movements.   
  
She glared at him, giving in and folding her arms against herself. "What am I doing here?" She asked tiredly.  
  
He looked at her, those blue eyes intense and serious in a way that she had never seen them. "I wanted to see you again." He said simply, coming toward her. "Sweet Sarah," he crooned, reaching out and lightly touching her chin.   
  
She wrenched her face away from him hand, glaring and rubbing at her skin, rubbing his touch off of her. The Goblin King saw, and he drew himself up straight, abandoning his indolent pose. "Don't touch me, Goblin King." She said, voice low and dangerous.  
  
"My name is Jareth!" he shouted, hands clenching into fists, eyes bright with a sudden fury.   
  
Sarah jumped back, heart pounding. "Jareth?" She repeated. She had never thought about the Goblin King having a name. He was a mystery, a fantasy, a monster - not a human being.   
  
"Yes, Jareth," he said more quietly, gaining control of himself. "My name is Jareth, and I'm getting sick and tired of you 'Goblin Kinging' me all the time!"   
  
"Well, I'm sorry, how was I supposed to know?" She shot back, glaring at him.   
  
Silence.   
  
"Take me home," Sarah said softly, pleadingly. "My brother needs me, and there's no reason for me to be here." She said, reaching out a cautious hand.   
  
"Do not pity me!" He lashed out, whipping his hand away, turning to glare at her. "I am not yet finished with you, girl!" He ground out, stalking toward her, shoulders back and straight. Again, Sarah felt the thrill of fear sneaking up her backbone, and an insidious attraction that she remembered, all of a sudden, from her adventure in her younger days. "I will be kind, this time, but do not think that this is over!"   
  
All she saw were his eyes, pale blue and piercing. The room disappeared, and she felt a coldness seep into her bones. Her knees gave out, she fell, but still, she saw his eyes. Then she saw nothing.   
  


* * *

Jareth looked at the slight woman in his arms - she was still lithe and lovely. A fitting queen, a fitting wife. He kissed her lightly on the brow, kissed her soft eyes. A wistful smile tugged at him. He stepped from the ether, appearing in her bedroom, just as it had been when she left it. The rose he had created for her - his illusion spell - had become a dulled, empty crystal lying on the carpet by the bed.   
  
He laid Sarah down gently on the mattress, sitting beside her. "I will plague you, lady," he vowed. He glanced toward the other room, shaking his head ruefully. "And still, the boy, as well. Your heart is as beautiful as your soul." He told the enchanted girl, standing slowly. He faded into invisibility, then with a light touch released Sarah from her spell-bound sleep.   
  
He waited long enough to be sure that she was awake - long enough to see her yawn heartily and rub at her eyes, then he returned to his own realm, and the dark, forested section of the Labyrinth that he loved to wander.   
  
He stood on a slight rise, booted foot braced on an outcropping of rock, one hand resting on the rough bark of a tree. He looked out over the forest, listening to the cries of the birds and the screeches of the inhabitants of his land. "Another failure," he mused aloud. "What must I do for her? Is there any way to convince her?"   
  
He kicked at a protruding root, gritting his teeth. She had pitied him. He had seen it. The thought was disturbing - almost repellant. But at the same time, she had almost touched him. That, at least, was a bright spot in the total failure of the evening.   
  
"Maybe Fae courtship isn't the right tactic," he considered. He watched the wind blow the leaves of the trees, watched the rocks roll past, intent on their own missions. The head of a firey bumped up to his foot, and he sighed, hearing the hoots and screams of the rest of the pack chasing over the missing cranium.   
  
He strode away from the tree trunk, the trees and leaves blending as he passed swiftly through his lands, headed for the castle. He slowed before the open maw of the castle gate, stalking through it, and into his throne room. He had to figure out his next step.  
  


* * *

TO BE CONTINUED………. 


	4. Going Courting -- Part Four

Going Courting -- Part Four  
By ACJ Leveille  
  


Author's Note:  
Here's part four -- sorry it took me so long to get it out. Usual disclaimers apply -- I don't own anyone or anything. I hope you all enjoy, and I'm working hard on Part Five. Let me know what you think!  
  


* * *

  
  
Sarah opened her eyes. She was looking up, and above her was her ceiling. She recognized the pinholes in the panels. Then she remembered.  
  
She sat up with a gasp, looking around. Her room looked like it always had, nothing seemed out of place or different. She swung her legs off the bed, looking down at herself. She was still fully dressed, thank goodness.   
  
Peeking out the door of her bedroom, she saw that Toby was still sleeping peacefully on her couch. He must not have noticed anything. She looked at the clock, and was shocked to see that the whole experience had taken up barely two hours. It was still night, and with a yawn, she realized that she was tired.   
  
She undressed, again, pulling on her nightshirt and climbing in between the sheets. Each movement increased her feeling of lethargy, until she finally collapsed back against the pillow with a grateful sigh.   
  
Sleep was short in coming, but not short enough to prevent some last thoughts on her evening - on Jareth. Somehow, the Goblin King had managed to, in the space of a few minutes, cause her to question years worth of conclusions on her part. It wasn't a comfortable position to be in.   
  
As her eyes slid helplessly shut, his face came to her mind. Blue eyes, blond hair. Jareth. The name floated through her consciousness. She forced it out, then gave in to her tiredness.   
  


* * *

The days passed. Sarah took Toby to see a movie, to dinner, and for a walk in the park. They played games, and ordered Chinese food to be delivered to her apartment. She refused to let any thought of the Goblin King intrude, concentrating on enjoying what little time she had with her brother.   
  
He hadn't noticed anything, had slept soundly, and awoken the next morning hungry and happy. Sarah had briefly considered going down on her knees to thank any deity who was listening, but didn't. She didn't think that Toby remembered anything about his early life adventure, but she wasn't sure. She wasn't prepared to put his memory to the test.  
  
When Sarah's father arrived on Sunday afternoon to pick Toby up, Sarah found herself unexpectedly disappointed. She smiled, giving her father a hug and inviting him into the apartment for a glass of water. He declined, and though she understood, Sarah found tears in her eyes as Toby gave her a big hug, then took his father's hand and left.   
  
She wandered into the suddenly empty kitchen, grabbing a glass and pouring herself some orange juice. She was sitting, slowly sipping the tart drink, when the phone rang.   
  
"Hello?" She answered, taking the empty glass to the sink and rinsing it out.  
  
"Hi," the voice came through the line. Warm and fuzzily masculine. Familiar.  
  
"Hello Marcus," Sarah smiled. "Why are you calling me?"   
  
"I got a call from William Peabody, and I think we're going to need to talk."   
  
"He's changed his mind again." Sarah closed her eyes, falling into a slump on the couch. "How much work is going to be involved this time?" She asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.   
  
"A lot." He said.   
  
Sarah ran a hand through her hair. "Where do you want to meet?" She asked, resigned.  
  
He named a restaurant a few blocks from her apartment - one that she had been to a couple times. It was nice, but not fancy. Sarah agreed, although she didn't really want to. The meeting with Peabody was set for the next day, and all the problems had to be ironed out by then. Her job, and Marcus', depended on it!   
  
When she reached the restaurant, she was led directly to a table by a window. Marcus was waiting, wearing a suit, jacket and tie. Sarah had stopped long enough to throw on a casual dress, but it looked dowdy next to his finer outfit. She greeted him, and slid into the chair across the table.   
  
"Okay, what's going on?" she asked, motioning to the waiter to fill her water glass.   
  
"Hey!" Marcus laughed. "Relax. We've got plenty of time! Why don't you enjoy a nice meal, on the expense budget?" He coaxed, waving the menu at her.   
  
Sarah got the uneasy feeling that she had been set up. It was too late to do anything about it, though, and now she was stuck. She sighed. Marcus looked at her, and all she could think of was a little boy, hoping for a treat. "Oh, all right," she acquiesced.   
  
His smile was brilliant. He reached out and touched her hand. "Good." He seemed to hesitate. "You know, I think you're really attractive, Sarah." He said, and for the first time, she saw his eyes. They were green. Emerald green - deep forest green. And then she realized that she wanted to be sitting across from a man with pale blue eyes, and a glacial smile.   
  
Oh no, she thought to herself, even as Marcus talked on, complimenting her, what have I done? Why am I longing for him?  
  


* * *

"What!?" Jareth exclaimed as the crystal honed in on its master's lady. The picture - Sarah and Marcus, together, was disturbing, but worse were the words that were carried by the Goblin King's magic.   
  
He was paying fawning homage to the King's lady.   
  
Jareth growled, a sound that started low in his throat, but grew to a rumble that shook the very foundations of the castle, of the Labyrinth itself. With a furious motion, he twisted himself, turning to his other form and launching himself into Sarah's world.   
  
Fury fed his wing-beats as he flew, until he came to a graceful halt outside the restaurant, outside the window that Sarah was seated by. He perched on a bench across from the window - within plain sight, where he knew that Sarah would see him. And he waited.  
  


* * *

Marcus was still droning on - and not about the Peabody account or anything else related to work - and Sarah was leaning on the table, when she happened to look out the window, and saw him. Or saw it.  
  
A huge, snow-white owl, waiting, leisurely perched on a bench across from her. An owl that was staring at her with huge, fixed eyes. She knew it was him, and the knowledge made her nervous.   
  
She swallowed her goblet of water quickly, watching out the window with the corner of her eye, only half listening to Marcus talk on. Suddenly, she realized that he hadn't been talking. There was silence. She looked at him, to see him watching her in return.  
  
"This isn't going to work, is it?" He asked quietly.   
  
Sarah reached out, touching his arm lightly. "Marcus," she started.  
  
"Are you involved with someone else or something?" He asked. "I mean, I've never seen you with anyone, or heard you talking about anyone or anything!" He rubbed a hand through his hair. "I'm making an ass of myself, aren't I?"   
  
She couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled forth. "No, that's not it," she assured him, earning a relieved grin. "I came here to work on the Peabody account, though, not for a date."   
  
In answer, Marcus silently reached down beside his chair and lifted a briefcase. He set it on the table, clicking open the locks, and pulling out a huge sheaf of papers. A good chunk of them were bound into a folder and clipped. Those he handed to Sarah. "Mr. Peabody thinks that these need to be more fantasy-oriented."   
  
Sarah looked at Marcus questioningly. "What is this section? I did the fantasy section myself!" She protested.  
  
"You were in charge of the adult fantasy section," Marcus corrected her. Alice handled the juvenile section, and apparently Peabody was displeased with the mock-ups she sent him. He wants you to do it." He shrugged.   
  
Sarah thought about it. She was used to clients and co-workers complimenting her on the fine job she did with her design work. She had earned a name for herself since she joined the advertising firm. She hadn't expected to spend her life coming up with ways to sell things, but she found she truly enjoyed it. For a time, when she was younger, she had flirted with the idea of going into drama, like her mother, but two years doing community theater while she was in college cured her of the desire. She had had a hard time dealing with the tempers and petty jealousies of the actors.   
  
She rubbed her forehead, looking askance at the thick pile Marcus held toward her. "We have to have it done by tomorrow?" She asked.   
  
"The meeting is at noon, and Peabody says he's not going to sign until he gets some mock-ups he likes."   
  
"Oh, only mock-ups?" That involved much less work - it was, at least in theory, possible to achieve that in time for a noon meeting. "For the web site or the catalog?"   
  
"Both." Sarah groaned, and Marcus laughed at it. "He said he didn't need anything definite, he just wanted to know before he committed to this that he was going to get what he wanted. Apparently he was burned by his last ad company - which was why he came looking for a new one." He said, watching the waiter carry their food in. Sarah hadn't even noticed when he had ordered.   
  
"Robertson and Associates?" Sarah asked, agoggle. They were really one of the premier firms on the east coast!  
  
Marcus nodded affirmatively. "And before you asked, I talked to Kinson as well, and he says that if Peabody wants you to produce some ideas, that you'd better do it." Kinson was the founder of the swiftly growing firm that Sarah worked for - the man everyone listened to, in the end.   
  
She sighed, knowing that the work was going to be unavoidable. She took the folder, hefting it over the wineglass, the bread basket, and the plate of pasta that the waiter had deposited in front of her. "I better get going," she said finally, looking regretfully at the food.  
  
Marcus paused, fork halfway to his lips. "You're not going to eat?"   
  
Sarah motioned a waiter over, asking him to box her food up. "I'll eat it at home," she explained. "I think I'm going to need the time."   
  
He understood, and they chatted until the waiter brought the box to her. She took it, set the folder on top, and headed for the door. Marcus called after her. "Let's get together around ten, and see what you've got." She agreed with a nod, and left.  
  
It wasn't until the door clanged shut and she found herself in the moist heat of the night that she remembered - remembered the Goblin King who was watching her. The owl who still sat patiently.   
  
Sarah pretended not to see it, walking swiftly down the street. Her apartment was only four blocks from the restaurant, and the night was still early enough to have the sidewalks full, so she felt safe enough. She tried to ignore the shivering feeling on the back of her neck, but knew that she was being followed all the way home. She nodded to the footman, who opened the door to her building, and rode the elevator to her floor. She opened the door and went into her apartment, putting the box into the oven to warm it and tossing the folder of papers on her table. She stalked to the sliding glass door and threw it open, standing in the heat of the night once again.  
  
As she stood beneath the moon, she felt the anger and frustration rising. "What do you want from me!?" She asked the night. She didn't scream - she knew she didn't have to. He was lurking somewhere near, she could feel him, somehow. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"   
  
The wind kicked up, but no owl came winging out of the night to find her. She was surprised to find herself disappointed. She shut the door, turning, already shifting gears and thinking about the work she had to do.   
  
She almost screamed when she stepped into the Goblin King, who was standing right behind her, hands braced on his hips. He stalked around the room, looking at everything. He touched her knick-knacks, lifting up one vase of flowers, touching the silk petals. He put it down quickly, acting almost offended. Sarah stifled a laugh. He looked over at her, eyes slitted. Sarah glanced at the fake flowers again, and gasped. The sleek silk arrangement was gone, replaced by the unreal bouquet that had been delivered to her three days before - the bouquet that she had left at work. The flowers weren't even wilted.   
  
"You sent me those?" She asked, voice quavering.   
  
He turned to her, the short cloak he wore flaring out from his shoulders. Looking at him, seeing him for the first time as a woman saw a man, Sarah understood the wicked fascination that had kept the cruel King in her dreams for years after their encounter.   
  
"Why did you do that?" She asked, bracing her hand on a chair, feeling her heart start to pound. "Why are you here?" She asked, then began to wonder, and laughed. "You aren't here, are you?" She sat down, putting her head on the table. "This is the stress getting to me, and you don't exist. I'm imagining you."   
  
The notion seemed to upset him. He stalked over, grabbing her chin, staring at her with angry eyes. "Does this feel like a dream?" He demanded, bending down and claiming her lips with his own.   
  
Sarah's eyes flew open wide, then slid shut as sensation swirled through her. She savored the tingly taste of his mouth, then it was gone.   
  
He stood a foot away, impassive.   
  
Sarah rubbed her hand over her mouth, gaping at him. "Why did you do that?" She asked in a whisper.   
  
"You're mine, Sarah," he said. "You have been mine for years, and now it is time for you to come back to the Labyrinth - to come and be with me."   
  
"Be with you?" She asked, still shell-shocked from the kiss. "What is this, some bizarre dating ritual?" She demanded, rounding on him. "You think that you can just pop into my life - literally - after years? Last time I spent thirteen hours being terrorized by you, and now you expect me to go off with you, just like that?" Anger blazing, she thumped him in the chest with a balled fist.   
  
He was silent, still. "You do, don't you?" She asked, quietly, almost disbelievingly. "You think I'm going to nod and agree to go off with you? You sent me flowers, you kiss me, and that's it? You're mad!" She declared.   
  
"Sarah," he began, but she interrupted, eyes bright with tears.   
  
"You know what, I can't deal with this tonight." She motioned to the folder on her table. "I have work that I have to do, and I just can't think about this."   
  
Jareth gaped. She was unsympathetic. "Get out," she shooed. "Haunt me if you like, but get out for tonight." He didn't seem to want to move, just watched her. Finally, as she glared at him, he bent in a courtly bow. He looked up through his lashes, face blank. "I'll be back, Sarah," he informed her.   
  
She closed her eyes. "I'm sure you will."  
  
He faded slowly, became transparent, and then was gone. "I love you," his voice whispered into the silence.   
  
Sarah froze, stricken, then shook her head. "I really can't think about this," she said. Remembering the meal in her oven, she ran in, taking it out gingerly, and sat down. She had work to do.  
  


* * *

Jareth, invisible, stood in the room and watched her. She seemed to dismiss him, diving into her work with an ease that approached insult.  
  
She was gobbling mouthfuls of pasta, totally focused on the pages before her. He strolled over for a look, but the sketches made little sense to him. He smiled, though, seeing the obvious shapes of a castle in outline.  
  
He moved away quickly when Sarah shifted, rubbing the back of her neck. He watched her hand, graceful and slender, rifle through the hair at her nape. His own fingers twitched as he imagined the softness they'd encounter in her hair.  
  
He thought on the night. He had to, of course, do something with this Marcus person. The question was still how he was going to convince Sarah of his sincerity. She was to be his queen, but before he claimed her she was going to have to accept it! But neither flowers nor illusion had worked, and obviously he wasn't going to have any success just telling her of her destiny. How did one go about courting a mortal, he wondered?  
  
Sarah stood, taking a black case out of the closet. She unpacked a laptop computer and plugged it into an outlet.   
  
Jareth scowled, realizing she truly meant to work the night away. He looked around, not wishing to leave his beloved so soon. He finally settled for sitting on the couch, though he looked somewhat askance at the big poofy flowers that decorated the fabric.  
  
While Sarah worked, he withdrew a brilliant crystal and looked into it. With a wave, he called forth the man Sarah had been with, Marcus. The oaf was slumped in a large, overstuffed chair, flicking through the channels on television.  
  
"I guess I can't blame you," Jareth spoke thoughtfully. The words went completely unheard. The Goblin King rubbed his chin thoughtfully, shaking his head. "Too bad I just can't let you go, that's impossible. You've really gone too far."   
  
With a thought, he was standing behind Marcus' chair. He put one gloved hand on the back of it, and leaned forward.   
  
"She's not for you," he said, conversationally.   
  
Marcus jumped in his seat, letting out a very female-sounding shriek. He bit it back abruptly, but Jareth still laughed at hearing it.  
  
"What..? Who..?" Marcus choked out, eyes wide.  
  
"Who am I?" Jareth asked silkily, walking around to stand in front of the human. "That's none of your business."   
  
He rolled the crystal in his palm and the television flickered off. The crystal disappeared. Jareth leaned lazily against the screen, one hand on a jutting hip. "What does concern you, however," he purred, "is Sarah Williams."   
  
Marcus stilled. "What is this about? Where did you come from?"  
  
Jareth sneered, an elegant expression of royal distaste. "Stay away from her, Marcus," he drawled, butchering the man's name until Marcus himself could barely recognize it.  
  
"Away from Sarah?" Marcus asked, incredulous.   
  
"Are you an imbecile?" Jareth asked, losing patience. He held up a hand as Marcus began to stutter. "It doesn't matter. Just stay away from Sarah."   
  
The television flickered back to life, drawing attention. When Marcus turned back to the mysterious man, he was gone.   
  
Instead, there was a huge own sitting on the set. "I'll be watching you!" That strange voice echoed in the room.   
  
The owl flapped its wings, knocking over picture frames with the wind it created. It reared back, talons digging into plastic with malicious glee, and leapt forward, heading straight for the window. The glass shattered, falling wide, as the bird neared it, leaving behind chunks on the carpeting. From the honks down below, Marcus supposed that some had fallen to the street as well.   
  
He looked at the scratches on the television, then to the window, and shook his head. "Weird."   
  


* * *

Freedom. The wind on his wings, the world at his feet. Magic strength pumping through him with every heartbeat. It was everything he had ever wanted. Why was it, he wondered, that it suddenly wasn't enough?  
  
Soaring over the city, Jareth dove suddenly, stopping before Sarah's window.  
  
He melted into the room, feeling the warmth enfold him. Sarah's presence was a soothing balm to his frayed patience. Once more invisible, he settled again onto the couch. A yawn escaped him.  
  
He looked at his bride-to-be, a pencil stuck behind her ear, a half-empty plate at her elbow. She was tapping away industriously, pausing every few moments to scratch something new on her notepad.  
  
Humming to himself, Jareth didn't notice as he slid from wakefulness to sleep.  
  


* * *

"Finally!" Sarah said, rubbing her sore eyes. She shut down the computer, putting all the papers into a neat pile on the table.  
  
She looked at the clock. Four A.M. She yawned, and stretched her tired back muscles. She was too wound-up to go to sleep, though. She wandered over to the television, lazily grabbing the remote. She hit the power button as she sat down.  
  
And came up with a loud screech. She leaned down, feeling around the couch. Two legs. Unmistakable.   
  
Suspicion snuck into her mind. She followed the leg up - a knee, a strong well-muscled thigh.   
  
"Are you sure you wish to continue?" Jareth asked, appearing as he spoke. Sarah looked down at her hand. It was already fairly high on his thigh. She jerked it back, standing up, cheeks burning.   
  
"What are you doing here?" She demanded, rubbing her palm against her leg. The feel of his thigh seemed to be imprinted on it.   
  
"Sleeping," he answered.  
  
"Yes, but why are you doing it on my couch?" She asked.  
  
Jareth shrugged, gracefully sliding his feet off the couch and sitting upright. He should have looked ridiculous, lying against the overwhelmingly tacky fabric of her couch, but he didn't. He looked just as haughty and supremely confident as always.  
  
Sarah collapsed onto the couch, leaning her head back.   
  
"Tired, Sarah?" He asked, his voice dark and sexy. With her eyes closed, hearing him say her name made her shiver.   
  
"I have to get some sleep," she said. "I have to get to work in the morning." She didn't know whether she was speaking to herself or to him.  
  
After a bit, she felt him move. Her eyes opened, slowly. They felt heavy, weighted by tiredness.  
  
He was close, his milk-white face mere inches from hers. She smiled, almost helplessly. Her sleepiness made the world seem hazy. The sensuous smile curling his lips sent a frission of awareness down her spine. Without her conscious permission her arms came up to encircle him, pull him against her.   
  
He lost his balance. His eyes widened in surprise and he tumbled into her lap, platinum hair draping over her knees, bare where her skirt had climbed up. He froze. Sarah felt a laugh bubble up, let her fingers caress the soft skin of his throat, the pale thrust of his cheekbone. He stared up, his eyes fluttering closed.   
  
Deep down, Sarah wondered what she was doing. Still, her half-mast eyes left her feeling half-drunk, insulated enough to be bold.   
  
One fingertip slid upward, caressing softly until she touched the purple shadows on his eyelid. She felt the softness there, then lifted her hand. She looked at him. He was quite beautiful, she realized, then gasped at her thought.   
  
Jareth's eyes flickered open, the pale blue orbs full of … regret? He reached up, one glove-adorned hand brushing her temple.  
  
The world spun as her eyes slammed shut.   
  


* * *

Jareth lay still, relaxing into Sarah's warm lap. His fingers brushed her lips. Her head rested against the back of the couch, her mouth wide open.   
  
The sleep spell had taken her. He moved off her lap, thought it pained him to do so. Knowing she would sleep deeply until he woke her, he gathered her in his arms, leaning back on the couch. She curled against his chest, head resting on his heart.  
  
"Well, my Sarah," he said, affectionately nuzzling her hair. "Perhaps you aren't so indifferent after all!" The thought pleased him. They slept.  
  


* * *

TO BE CONTINUED….. 


	5. Going Courting -- Part Five

Going Courting - Part 5  
by ACJ Leveille   
  


Author's Note:   
First, I want to say thank you to everyone who's read my fics, and especially to those who've left me reviews. I really appreciate it. Reviews are sooo encouraging. Thanks again, everyone! Second, I want to apologize for not getting these up as fast as I meant to. This is the first time (and the last time) that I post a piece as I write it. It gets incredibly tense when you get stuck, and even worse when (like I did this past week) you find out how to get out of the rut you were in a realize that you really needed to mention your "brilliant idea" back in the already posted parts. Anyway... I feel like I really figured this story out (finally) and hope you guys enjoy. Hope to post the next part next weekend. Please, tell me what you think. Remember -- I don't own anyone or anything, except maybe Marcus. I hope everyone enjoys! Oh, and if you would prefer to email me personally (with technique tips or that sort of thing -- that don't really belong on the review posting section) my addy is arysta@bigfoot.com. 

* * *

"Hello, Sarah."   
  
It was the dream again. Sarah found herself, this time, laying on her back in a green meadow. Around her birds chirped and flew, and somewhere off to her right was a stream. He was there.   
  
She smiled, staring up into the clouds. She didn't bother turning to look at him - he had never let her see his face. She frowned as the thought prodded at something in her memory, but she couldn't think of what, and then the thought was gone.   
  
"Aren't you going to say hello?" A male voice, at the same time familiar and unknown, coaxed teasingly.   
  
Sarah looked over, seeing nothing but the usual blurred blackness where a face and body should be. She turned to him, lazily, feeling the long skirts tangle around her ankles. She reclined on her side, and considered reaching into the dense darkness, touching the man who haunted her dreams.   
  
"Who are you?" She asked suddenly, the words going from brain to mouth with no stop in between.   
  
A distinct chuckle, then a touch in her long hair. She leaned into his hand.   
  
"You like that?" He asked, voice a bit husky.   
  
Sarah smiled, intense joy flooding her. Her emotions were always so strong in these dreams.  
  
"What do you want?" He asked, pulling her head into his lap. She scented deeply, closing her eyes. He smelled of sandalwood and musk.   
  
"I want to see you, to know you!" She said, a pleading tone twisting her voice at the end. She noticed it, and frowned a bit. "You aren't just a figment of my imagination, of this," she opened her eyes and waved a hand around, indicating the meadow. "This dreamworld. When will I get to meet you?"   
  
Silence.   
  
"You want to meet me?" He finally asked, his voice strangled a bit.   
  
Sarah sat up, staring into the blankness, trying to fix her gaze on something in the midst of the nothingness. "Of course!" She said vehemently, leaning forward. "I love you." Sudden shyness hit her, and she shrank into herself.   
  
"How can you love me?" He asked, softly, voice neutral. "You don't know me."   
  
That stunned her for a bit, and possible responses flew through her mind. She finally stuttered out the truth. "I may not know the little details of your life, or what you like for breakfast, but I know who - what - you are, deep inside." They had been meeting in dreams for years - almost as long as she could remember. How could she not know and love him?   
  
His blurred form stood suddenly, stalking back and forth, the blackness roiling and bubbling around him. Sarah watched, each step pushing her closer to seething. After all the time that they had spent in each other's company he still didn't trust her to know her own feelings!   
  
"What is your problem?" She demanded, jumping to her feet after his forty-third step. She glared into the black. "Can't you just believe what I say?" She felt tears gathering in her eyes. Fear and anger shot through her, mingling. The flux of emotions cut off her breath, and she began to feel lightheaded.   
  
He was shimmering now, the blank darkness wavering and flickering in the bright sunlight of the meadow. Even as she thought that, a cloud coasted across the sun, bathing them in darkness. The wind picked up, going from a slight, pleasant breeze to a blowing fury in seconds. It flung Sarah's skirt and hair around, and she grabbed both, hanging on grimly.   
  
He stalked up to her, came closer and closer until he was inches from her. The edges of the blackness sparked with electricity. Sarah's eyes widened, realizing for the first time that his disquiet was causing the disturbances in their dream.   
  
She stepped backward. "I'm sorry," she began, clasping her hands at her chest. She was breathing hard, her legs shaking from the rush of adrenaline that had come and gone.   
  
"You want to know me? You say you love me?" He asked, voice clipped. Sarah grabbed at her head. His voice was so familiar, more so, all of a sudden. "Fine, then you will know me! How do you want to meet me, Sarah? How do you want me to court you?" His tone grew angry and harsh. "Lovers such as us, well, how would we do that? Do I come up to you and introduce myself? Would that please you?"   
  
Sarah felt her teeth chatter as rain poured down from the thickening clouds overhead, lashing her. It was freezing. What a dream, she had the presence of mind to think, then she turned her attention back to her beloved and his frozen, anguished tones.   
  
"I don't know," she yelled, clutching her wet skirts to her, shivering. He stilled, the blackness blank and un-moving. "Introduce yourself, take me to dinner, let's see a show!" She screamed into the splotch. She ripped her sopping hair back from her face, knowing that, had she been wearing any make-up at the beginning of their interlude, she now looked like a bedraggled raccoon.   
  
"You want me to date you?" He asked incredulously. "Human date you?"   
  
It was her turn to stop, for the space of a heartbeat, she didn't move. "What do you mean, human date?" Her eyes narrowed. The wind died off, suddenly. The temperature dropped just as quickly. "You're not human?"   
  
"Sarah," the blackness reached forward, "I told you..."   
  
She backed away from him. "What are you?" She asked, horror and fascination warring inside her. She closed her eyes. "I love you," she said, reminding both of them. "I know you, and you are good-hearted and kind."   
  
"You know nothing of me!" He bit out. "No, I'm not human. You couldn't begin to comprehend what I am!"   
  
Her eyes snapped open. "Hah!" She barked loudly. "How would you know, you're not even giving me a chance!"   
  
A standoff. The weather calmed, warm sunlight peeking from behind the clouds. Sarah's dress was dry again. She watched him warily.   
  
"So you want to be dated?" He said, voice wondering.   
  
"I want to know you, to be with you," she agreed cautiously.   
  
"Fine." He said, sharply. "Remember, Sarah," he said, even as the darkness began to fade away, and her awareness began to slide away, as happens in dreams, "Remember, you have asked me to do this."   
  
He was gone, and Sarah found herself in her living room, lying on the couch. There was a buzzing, somewhere. She blinked, pulling herself up against the arm of the couch until she was sitting upright.   
  
Alarm clock, her mind supplied. She rubbed her eyes, trying to focus on the numbers on her wristwatch.  
  
She gasped, jumping to her feet. "Oh no! I'm going to be late for work!" She ran into her bedroom.   
  
The man who had been standing, watching her, made an odd sound. She hadn't noticed him at all, and she wouldn't see him now. "So that's what you want, is it?" He asked quietly, calling a crystal to his hand. The light glinted off the magical globe, and he projected himself into his own world.   
  
His voice echoed behind him. "You shall get it.... And I hope we are both up to the challenge, my dear."   
  


* * *

"Sarah! Where have you been?" Marcus asked as she made her way to her cubicle. She toted a heavy briefcase and a less-than-generous mood this morning. She had woken alone, thankfully, but with crystal-clear memories of the night before. She was still silently cursing herself as she set her computer case down and saw Marcus sitting in her chair, feet on her desk.   
  
She prodded at the Italian leather loafers, and he obligingly put his feet on the floor. "I expected you in a while ago!" He said, watching her unpack her things. "It's almost ten thirty!"   
  
Sarah turned to look at him and saw, from the corner of her eye, the bouquet of flowers. On her desk, again. She shut her eyes with a groan.   
  
Marcus followed her eyes. "What? Forget your boyfriend?" He asked caustically.   
  
"What do you mean?" Sarah asked.   
  
Marcus stood. "You know, at first, I thought you really were honest with everyone here. I guess these should have clued me in," he said, fingering the flowers. He jumped back, rubbing a finger he probed a sharp thorn. Sulkingly, he stuck his finger in his mouth, and continued as if nothing had happened. "Just tell your boyfriend to stay away from me, huh?"   
  
Sarah gave up setting up her computer, turning to Marcus with a look of complete confusion on her face. "What on Earth are you talking about?"   
  
"He came to my apartment last night, did he tell you that? What did you tell him we did yesterday?" He asked, then looked at her. "I know I have no room to lecture you about your personal life, but let me tell you - this guy seems like a real psychopath!"   
  
"Who?" Sarah demanded.   
  
Marcus stared at her for a second. "Sort of weird guy, pointy hair? Eye shadow? Does any of this ring a bell?"   
  
"Oh, my gosh," Sarah whispered. "He didn't." Anger flared in her eyes, and her lips tightened. "He's not my boyfriend, Marcus."   
  
"He said he was." The man said, almost shocked. Sarah remained silent, booting up her computer.   
  
"He's not stalking your or anything, is he?" Marcus asked hesitantly. "He did look pretty weird. Maybe you should call the police or something," he suggested.   
  
Sarah rolled her eyes, just imagining it. Trying to explain to the police that the King of Goblins was trying to take her to his kingdom Underground. "Don't worry, I can handle it!" Sarah assured the man with a laugh.   
  
"Look, I can vouch for you , if you want me too," he offered.   
  
"I said, I can handle it!"   
  
"All right, all right." Marcus held up his hands. "I won't talk about it anymore."   
  
"Good," Sarah said. "He won't bug you again." She told him. "Now, let me show you what I got done...." She pulled up the idea file on her computer, and pulled out the sketches she had made.   
  


* * *

Sarah and Marcus walked into the conference room together, at least in stride. Discussion between them was somewhat strained.   
  
"Ah, just the woman I was talking about!" Mr. Peabody, a hearty man of average height, pushed up from his chair and came toward her, hand outstretched. Sarah plastered a smile on her face and leaned forward, greeting him. "Your designs, my dear," he continued, arms waving wildly, "they're wonderful!"   
  
Sarah blushed, sliding into a seat at the conference table. She slid her portfolio onto the table, and then pulled out her laptop, which had been carefully checked to make sure it was fully charged. Everyone settled into seats, watching her and Marcus expectantly. Sarah nodded, and Marcus started the presentation.   
  
She was just starting to wrap up - handing the client the various papers with her proposed ideas drawn out in full-color - when the door to the room opened, swinging wide.   
  
A man stepped in. Sarah exhaled deeply, staring. Marcus took one good look, then his head whipped around. His eyes met Sarah's.   
  
"Jareth," she breathed. No one heard her.   
  
Mr. Peabody motioned him over, a wide smile on his face. "This is Mr. King," he introduced. "He's my creative director." He looked at his employee, then at the papers that Sarah had just given him. "What do you think of these, Jareth?"   
  
The man looked around the room, eyes coming to rest on Sarah. He stood, feet braced solidly apart. He wore a casual business outfit, and his hair was, miraculously, tamed into a somewhat normal style. There was no doubt about it though, this was the Goblin King.   
  
He strode forward, extending his hand almost defiantly. "Sorry I haven't had the chance to meet you, I've been away... on business." He said with a sly grin. Everyone nodded, except Sarah, who looked around, wondering how everyone had been sucked into his spell so easily. He looked at her, blue eyes burning into hers. Sarah felt heat color her cheeks as memories of the last night popped in her mind.   
  
His head on her lap, her fingers on his skin. Extreme embarrassment fogged her senses for a moment. Then he looked away. Sarah took a deep breath, fighting down the emotions that had bombarded her.   
  
The Goblin King looked down at the pictures, the ideas that Sarah had produced. "Very nice," he pronounced. "There are some details that need a bit of... refinement." He said, pointing to what he meant. "Overall, though, very nicely done."   
  
Mr. Peabody nodded in satisfaction, and Sarah nearly growled aloud, seeing at the power that the recalcitrant king commanded over her future. This account could make or break her career. Why was he interfering?   
  
She looked down at a touch on her arm. Marcus' hand. His eyes were steady on her face. She could almost hear him asking if she was all right.   
  
"Nice job, Ms. Williams," Jareth said, inserting himself between her and Marcus, knocking the man's hand off her arm. His eyes bored into Sarah, then turned cold and hard as he glanced at Marcus.   
  
"Please, Mr. King," Sarah said deliberately, moving her arm from his own possessive touch.   
  
He looked at her quizzically, a strangely hurt smile stretching his lips. "Perhaps, since it seems we're going to be working very closely for a bit, we should get to know one another better? Would you like to come to lunch with me?" He offered, his tone making it sound as if it were a great honor to be asked.   
  
It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, with passion, but the look in his eyes made her freeze. "I'd love to," she found herself saying.   
  
His answering smile was tinged with triumph and sorrow both. The look made her wonder if he had influenced her choice, but the thought flew out of her head when Mr. Peabody came up behind them.   
  
"I know I can trust my business with you both on it," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Jareth," he said, clapping the man on the back. Jareth's eyes widened, he fell forward. Sarah thrust out a hand, without thought, giving him something to grab onto before he fell on his face. Mr. Peabody walked right out of the office, not having noticed anything amiss.   
  
"You know," Marcus said, "I don't know what's going on here, but I really don't like being jerked around." He said, standing in front of them. Jareth pulled away, straightening his back. A whirling cloud of sparking mist covered one hand. Sarah watched apprehensively, but slowly the cloud disappeared.   
  
Jareth turned to Sarah. "I'll meet you at your desk," he announced arrogantly. He paused by the door, holding it for Sarah.   
  
She left, walking carefully, restraining both her anger and her urge to pull Marcus physically from the room and out of Jareth's reach.   
  


* * *

Jareth let the door shut, firmly, and looked back at Marcus. His eyes were dark and impassive. Wind cut through the room, lowering the pressure until the man's ears began to pop.   
  
Marcus showed the first signs of fear, backing up until he was against the huge table that dominated the room. He swallowed visibly. "Don't hurt her." He said, voice wavering.   
  
Jareth laughed, a hostile, low sound. "Me hurt her?" He walked toward Marcus, driving him from the table, backing him into a wall. "I would never hurt her!" He said, for a moment, fury and love both showing in his face. His expression closed. "I thought, however, that I had told you to stay away from her."   
  
His ice-blue eyes looked into Marcus' green ones, nothing but pure malice. This time, the crystal formed in his hand, flawlessly. He twisted it, held it up. It looked incongruous against his attire, but didn't detract from Jareth's intense power. It radiated from him, filled the room.   
  
Marcus stared, speechless. Jareth smiled coldly, turning, the crystal evaporating as he reached the door, which opened without being touched.   
  
Marcus slid down the wall until he was slumped on the floor. Slowly, after time, he wiped the cold sweat from his brow and stood, stumbling out of the room. He was trying to figure out how he could alert the police to the crazy man's presence without angering Sarah.   
  


* * *

"Come, Sarah," Jareth said as he neared her desk.   
  
Sarah looked up from her desk, slowly, letting the anger simmering inside of her mold lines on her face. When his face changed, eyes widening minutely in surprise, she knew that her fury was visible. That knowledge gave her an odd feeling of satisfaction.   
  
"Sarah," this time his voice was impatient, annoyed.   
  
She sat there, looking at him. Jareth, the powerful King of Goblins, standing in front of her cube, trying to take her out to lunch. Worse, she had agreed to it! What, she wondered, was the world coming to?   
  
"You said you would go," he reminded her, baring sharp white teeth. She looked around cautiously, seeing the eyes that slid back to their work a split second before she made contact. Gritting her teeth, she stood.   
  
"You're paying," she said sweetly, taking his elbow and pulling him toward the elevator. Her back burned, and she knew that when she got back, that she was going to have many questions to answer.   
  
Her compliance seemed to please the Goblin King, his arm relaxed a bit beneath her grasp. Once the elevator doors closed, she shoved herself away from him with a sub-vocal groan. She punched the button for the ground floor, glad for the brief period of privacy, and glared at him through slitted eyes.   
  
"What is it now?" She asked, folding her arms over her chest. "I should have known better than to think that I could actually get through a work day without having to worry about you popping up to torment me." Her voice faded near the end, transforming into a yawn that she swallowed back quickly.   
  
"Tired?" Jareth asked, voice syrupy, menacing.   
  
Sarah rolled her eyes, feeling childish and out-of-control as he confronted her. At her age, she should be able to deal with him, be he figment or reality, rationally and calmly. But instead, she was picking at him, letting him get to her.   
  
"Did you sleep well?" He continued, as the floors bleeped by. Two more, and they were on the ground level.   
  
Silence, then the elevator came to a halt, the doors sliding open soundlessly. He held the door for her, letting her precede him. He suavely caught up to her, taking her hand and placing it in his elbow.   
  
"Come, this way," he guided her toward a side door.   
  
She stopped. "No, if I go, then I'm choosing the restaurant." She said. He watched her for a second, impatience in his eyes.   
  
The emotion faded, replaced by a curiously gentle, yet fathomless, look. "As you wish," he said heartily, holding forth his hand.   
  
Sarah debated taking it for a moment, wondering if it was some sort of a trick. "All right," she said, with a deep breath. She led him through the glass doors at the front of the building, sparing a smile for the security guard that sat behind the crescent desk in the lobby. "Yeah, you better come with me," she muttered, so low that Jareth noticed nothing. "I have a few things I want to say to you, Mr. King!"   
  


* * *

"Where did Sarah go?" Marcus asked, arriving at her cubicle and finding it empty. He glanced toward the restrooms.   
  
One of the women at a nearby desk looked up. "She left with some guy."   
  
"Some guy?" Marcus said, blood chilling in his veins. "She wouldn't!" He said to himself. He walked as quickly as he dared over to the window, looking down on the street fifteen floors below. Squinting, he could just make out Sarah walking down the sidewalk. Sure enough, right beside her was the unmistakable figure of the psycho who had ravaged his apartment.   
  
Marcus turned back to the woman. "Did she look like she wanted to go, to you?" He asked. He knew that it was none of his business, but he didn't care. Sweet Sarah didn't deserve being stalked, or... worse. It didn't matter if she was mad, as long as she was alive.  
  
The woman had frowned, shaking her head. "Actually," she said, biting her lip, obviously hesitant to reveal what she had seen. Marcus waved his hand, nodding, urging her to continue. "He seemed a little upset, and so did she. Is that her boyfriend? The one who sent her those awesome flowers?" She asked, eyes wide, looking at the still-pristine blooms on Sarah's desk.   
  
Marcus nodded absently. She can't be alone with him, he thought, heading for the elevator. He knew where she usually had lunch, that would probably be the best place to start. He wasn't going to leave her alone with him!   
  


* * *

TO BE CONTINUED ............... 


	6. Going Courting -- Part Six

Going Courting -- Part Six  
  
by ACJ Leveille  
  


Author's Note: This is a short section, I hope to get more done this week. I hope you enjoy! Usual disclaimers apply. If you read, I'd love to hear what you think about it! Thanks!   
  


* * *

Walking down the street, arm in arm with the Goblin King, Sarah Williams wondered if she was going crazy. Or maybe he was going crazy. Glancing at him sideways, taking in his suit and tie, and neat and tidy hair, she would have believed it. No goblins, no outrageous makeup. Just Jareth. Jareth King. She bit back a laugh at the concept.  
  
"So, where are we going?" He asked. It was indeed his voice.  
  
She didn't know, really, but she didn't want to tell him that. She looked around, thinking furiously. What was on this street again? In this direction? Spotting a telltale sign, she smiled.   
  
"That's where we're going," she said, pointing.  
  
He looked puzzled. "What is that sort of place?"  
  
Laughing outright now, she tugged on his arm, pulling him quickly down the sidewalk. As they neared it, they heard screaming - the boisterous happiness of children. Gleefully, Sarah led him beneath the gleaming sign of golden arches.  
  


* * *

Marcus tore down the street, running flat out. He rammed someone with his shoulder and kept on going, only turning long enough to shout back an apology.   
  
He skidded into the lobby of the popular café, panting somewhat. He straightened his tie and looked around the tables. He didn't see her.  
  
"Can I help you, sir?" A uniformed woman asked him. She had blonde hair tightly bound to her head, and a fake smile.   
  
"No, thank you, I was just looking for someone that usually has lunch here," he said, realizing that she wasn't there. He gave the waitress a quick grin, and turned and walked back out of the café.  
  
He stood on the street, swiping a hand through his hair. They had come this way, he knew that. He looked down the street, wondering where else they could have gone. Maybe, he thought pessimistically, they didn't even go to lunch. Maybe that was all made up.   
  
He started strolling down the street, looking in the windows of each restaurant as he passed it. He did it casually. He left his hands in his pocket and strolled down the sidewalk, not even really expecting to see Sarah.   
  
He was worried, though. Horrible thoughts were going through his head. If this guy was crazy enough to come into his apartment and threaten him, then who knew what he was capable of! Urgency burned in him, he had to find her!  
  
He was starting to panic when he looked over and saw her. Sitting. Eating. In McDonalds.   
  


* * *

"This is where you eat with your friends, Sarah?" Jareth asked, seating himself gingerly at the small plastic table.  
  
Sarah laughed. "Are you kidding! No one I know would be caught dead here, except Toby." She confessed, looking slightly guilty. "I love the food, though." She looked down with hungry eyes at the sandwich she had chosen.   
  
"So, what do you think?" She asked him, taking a bite out of her Big Mac.   
  
The high and mighty Goblin King prodded hesitantly at his own sandwich. "This is food?"   
  
She put down her own meal, sighing. "Don't be nasty." No matter where he was, the Goblin King was clearly the Goblin King. Blinking at the thought, she wondered what she had expected as his reaction.  
  
He stilled, looking at her. For a moment, there was no expression on his face. He looked so different! Without the cruel, mocking tilt to his lips the vulnerability shone through. It was rather startling.  
  
Sarah found herself frozen, staring at him. Nervously, she cleared her throat. She looked down, lifting her Big Mac and taking it bite. Strangely enough, it wasn't as appetizing as it had been. She set it down.  
  
Jareth watched her actions, but wisely said nothing. He took a cautious bite, chewing slowly.   
  
"So," she asked. She looked around the restaurant, watching the kids diving into the ball-room on the other side of the divider. A girl shrieked as she started down the slide, and Sarah smothered a laugh as she saw Jareth wince. Serves him right, she thought.   
  
"Not so bad," he said grudgingly, then followed her eyes to the ballroom. "Of course, I could have done with a few less... children."   
  
She eyed him. He wasn't flicking hands, transforming screaming kids to monsters, or even taunting her, as he had before. He was eating, and fairly calmly. "This is weird," she said to herself. Finally, unable to take the stress anymore, she balled up her meal, uneaten sandwich and all, and leaned back in her seat. "Out with it."   
  
He finished chewing a bite, watching her carefully. "What are you talking about?" He asked.  
  
"Why did you ask me to lunch?"   
  
He looked startled, at first. Quckly enough his face regained its usual mocking cast. He didn't say a word.  
  
"Sarah, is it so hard to believe that I simply wish to know you better?"   
  
"Yes," she replied bluntly.   
  
A flash of anger hollowed Jareth's face, then it was swept away. "Believe what you will," he told her, sticking a long golden French-fry in his mouth. He raised his eyebrows as he chewed.  
  
Sarah rolled her eyes, "I'm glad you like it. It's an American delicacy." Even he could catch her sarcasm. "Now, what are you doing here, pretending to work for Mr. Peabody? Pretending to work with me?"  
  
"I'm not pretending!" He said, taking another fry.  
  
"What do you mean? When did you get a job as Creative Director?" She asked scornfully.  
  
"At about nine this morning," he said with a smooth smile. "Right after I left you."   
  
"What?" She stared at the man, amazed at his gall. She hadn't thought he could do anything else to surprise her.  
  
His eyes were ice blue, mocking. "Of course, he doesn't know that."   
  
"You manipulated Mr. Peabody's memories?" Sarah screeched. Several heads turned their way. She blushed.  
  
Jareth smirked. "It didn't hurt him, and it's all to your advantage."   
  
"How is it to my advantage?" She demanded.  
  
He looked at her, smiling brilliantly. "Well, it lets us see each other," he crooned, taking her hand. "And that, my dear, *is* your fondest wish, isn't it?"   
  
Sarah sat, stunned. Anger pulsed through her, making the blood in her temples pound. She calmly picked up her purse with her free hand and stood up, yanking her other hand out of his grasp.   
  
He stood too, and suddenly she could see the cruelty in him. It leaked from his pores, melding with the aura of majesty and power that he pulled over himself like a cloak. Sarah took a hesitant step back, finding her knees trembling. "Don't test me," he told her, mouth tight. "You cannot escape me, and I do mean to have you." His icy eyes flared with fury as he straightened, striking a familiar indolent pose. "I know your dreams." He assured her.   
  
The power leached away, sinking into his skin. It was only then that Sarah realized that he was still wearing a suit - that he was still masquerading as the Mr. King. His eyes slid shut, but only for an instant.   
  
"I am going to leave you now, Sarah," he said quietly. His voice was careful, and Sarah knew that he was still angry. "But I will return." He turned on his heel and stalked from the restaurant, flinging open the door to exit. Sarah watched out the window, but he didn't emerge from the double set of doors. She shivered, and slumped back down into her seat.   
  
Holding her head in her hands, she took three deep breaths, trying to steady herself. Was it true, she wondered? Did she really want him to want her? Yes, she would admit it, that those long years ago he had held and inescapable attraction for her. If it hadn't been for Toby, or the fear and anger that burned in her each and every time he looked at her with those mocking eyes, she may have truly enjoyed her adventure.   
  
She had survived at least, she told herself. Mechanically, she swept the remains of their meal onto the brown plastic tray and walked it to the trashcan. She glanced around herself. The people were still filling the fast-food joint. Bored looking parents and their children, teenagers, even some people she knew who worked in her own building. No one seemed to have noticed anything out of the ordinary.  
  
Shrugging somewhat, she left the building, heading back to her office.   
  


* * *

As she left, Marcus emerged from the table he had been sitting at. He had carefully chosen a place behind a thick pillar. He had witnessed everything. Any doubts he had about Sarah needing help were gone, evaporated with Mr. King's soft-voiced assurance that he would not leave her alone.  
  
The thought crossed his mind that perhaps he wasn't going to be able to handle the man alone, but he thought of Sarah, and forced silence on his wavering will. I will help her, he swore, staring out the door where she had gone.   
  
His stomach rumbled. He noticed, suddenly, the smell of the food. Looking at the board, he decided that a burger looked awfully good. Getting one, he decided that his next step would be to talk to Sarah. Alone. Rationally. Without scaring her.   
  
Together, they would be able to find someway to free her from under Mr. King's thumb. Still, he thought as he exited, taking a bite out of the burger, it wouldn't hurt to talk to the security guard at the office and see what he knew about stalkers.   
  


* * *

TO BE CONTINUED......... 


	7. Going Courting -- Part Seven

Going Courting -- Part Seven   
by ACJ Leveille 

  
  


Author's Note:  
Okay, here's the next chunk. The end is in sight, folks! I want to re-iterate that this is the LAST time I will ever post anything as I write it. I'm going to keep going on this before working on my next Labyfic, because I'm a firm believer in finishing what I start. In this section it became clear that Marcus isn't even a quasi-bad-guy, poor thing. I'm currently working on his Laby-happy-ending, although that will be another work. I hope everyone enjoys this, I'm having a great time writing it. Thanks for everyone who read and reviewed -- especially after I lost my reviews in the FF.net change-over to chapters. It was so wonderful to see those new reviews. Thanks, all! Again, enjoy! 

* * *

Jareth wandered through the Labyrinth, lost in thought. He blithely stepped over several oubliettes as he traversed the maze, and quite a few times came close to getting speared, squished or otherwise attacked. Luckily, all the denizens who had almost threatened their king noticed their mistake before something unforgivable was done.   
  
The Goblin King never noticed anything. He was completely and utterly focused. He was thinking, of course, about Sarah.  
  
"Does she not realize who I am?" He pondered, feeling an urge to chew on his thumb. It was an urge he fiercely and quickly restrained. "She told me she wanted to meet me." He shook his head, platinum mane flying. "Of course she doesn't know me, why should she?" He asked aloud, looking up at the blue sky above. So like Earth, he thought, yet so different.   
  
He kicked at a chunk of rock poking up from the ground, ignoring the cry of pain that it responded with. "Two weeks," he muttered to himself. He thought of their lunch and sighed. "It's not going to be enough time."   
  
Blinking out, he reappeared on top of a high stone wall and sat there, chin resting on fisted hands, staring at the empty towering castle that was his own.  
  
"Oh, Sarah," he said softly. Flicking dust from his eye, he conjured a crystal. It showed Sarah's apartment, and the lady herself. She wore jeans and a T-shirt, as she cleaned her small domicile.   
  
A wistful smile touched his lips, and he let it linger there, focusing on Sarah's fierce scrubbing of the floor and harsh dusting. Her dark hair flew around her face as she focused on her chores.   
  
She stood abruptly, cocking her head. Jareth heard nothing, but watched intently as she walked to the door, flattening herself against the wood. With a weary look, she flung the door open. With a growl, Jareth threw the crystal. It sailed through the air, plunging as it crested over the Goblin City. He heard a short cry, and a cloud of dust appeared in the air. It made him feel marginally better.   
  
Kicking his legs against the wall, he resumed his previous pose. "And he's always there to interfere." With a smile, he remembered Sarah's mischievous, open face as she had towed him into that child's restaurant. He laughed, flinging himself from the wall and into the air. Twisting his form effortlessly, he thought to himself. "I bet she never took you to McDonald's!"   
  
Feeling a bit cheated that he couldn't laugh in the form of an owl, he headed to the castle. He would see Sarah soon enough.   
  


* * *

"What have I been thinking?" Marcus asked himself, looking into his mirror at his own face. "She doesn't want me haring off and making trouble."  
  
He stared sightlessly into his apartment. All he saw was her face, when she looked at that weird man.   
  
"She needs a friend, you dunce," he told himself. Seeing her expression flash across his mind, he understood why he had never been able to get her attention turned to him. She had this guy in her life. He wondered why she was hiding him. It was clear that she wasn't scared of him, not really. He angered her, but she could, as she said, handle it.  
  
"You're going to have to be there for her," he commanded himself, seeing in the mirror again. His eyes were red. He looked terrible, and wasn't afraid to admit it. To himself.   
  
He looked out the window. It was dark, but wasn't late yet. It had been a long day, and he had gotten home early. Sarah would surely be home.  
  
"I'll just walk over there and.." he said, putting on a heavier shirt. He paused. "And what?"   
  
Grabbing his keys from the table beside the door, he let himself out. He went down to the street, knowing that somewhere along the way to her apartment, he would realize what he was going to have to say.   
  


* * *

"Marcus, what are you doing here?" Sarah asked as she opened the door. She stood in the doorway, not letting him in.  
  
He sighed, his eyes sliding closed. He leaned onto the wall outside her door. "Can I come in," he asked.  
  
Sarah gasped as she saw his bloodshot eyes. She hastily moved, grabbing his arm to help him to her couch. "What happened?"   
  
Sinking into the soft cushions, Marcus barked a short laugh. "It's been a long day," he said. Sarah sat beside him, cradling her hands on her lap. She didn't want to touch him.   
  
"Were you mugged? Do I need to call the police?" She asked, wondering what to do. She got to her foot and just stood there, lost.   
  
He seemed to find her question tremendously funny. Laughter rolled out of him, slowly doubling him over. Sarah watched impassively. When he finally calmed, she dared to place a slow hand on his shoulder. "Is there someone I can call for you?" She asked.  
  
"Sarah, please," He said, sitting straight. "I'm fine." He took her hand, cradling it in his own. His green eyes bored into her. "Really."   
  
Obeying his tug, Sarah allowed herself to be drawn to the couch. "It's you I worry about." He confessed, eyeing her warily.  
  
"Is this about Jar... Mr. King again?" Sarah asked, finding she had little patience for the subject. She glanced at the dusty cloth and the bottle of dusting spray she had set down to get the door.   
  
"Look," he said, catching her attention. "I just came to say that I'm here if you need me. If you need someone to talk to or something. I'm not going to interfere, but my cousin's a police officer in the city, if you need his advice."   
  
Sarah turned her head, staring at the wall. She tried to calm herself. "Marcus, please, just leave it alone." She pleaded, looking back at him.   
  
His eyes were sad and yes, worried. It was clear that he cared. He wasn't trying to anger her, he was just worried. With a sigh, Sarah caught his chin between her palms. "I know we've been friends for almost a year, right?" He nodded. "Well, trust me here, okay?"   
  
His eyes dropped, but he nodded again. "Please, don't go to the police, or do anything like that. You may not understand what's going on, but he's not going to hurt me." She assured him. Internally, she wondered what Jareth would do to Marcus if he got pissed enough. Holding back a shudder, she focused on her friend and co-worker.   
  
"Plus, you have to work with him." He pointed out.   
  
Sarah smiled. "*We* have to work with him," she corrected.   
  
"What?" He asked.  
  
The smile still in place, she explained. "After all, you're still part of this team, aren't you?" Sarah felt a bit guilty for using him this way. "You'll have to be around whenever we meet!" She tried to look innocent.  
  
"You don't have to be alone with him." Marcus said slowly.  
  
Sarah nodded.   
  
Marcus smiled. "Just tell me when and I'll be there." He rolled to the floor, kneeling at her feet. "My Lady, I will protect your life with my own." He said in grand chivalric fashion.  
  
Sarah giggled, pulling him to his feet. "Very funny." She sobered. "I'm not that worried about it, really." She said.  
  
"No, but I am," he said wryly. "I'll try not to have the police chasing every guy in the city wearing eye shadow," he said. He looked around the room. "I wasn't bothering you, was I?"   
  
"I was just cleaning," Sarah said, going to her dust rag and picking it up.   
  
"Oh. Well, I'll be going." He said hesitantly, going around the couch and heading for the door.  
  
Sarah watched, then laid her rag down on the table again. "Why don't you hang around for a little bit?"   
  
A light came into his eyes. "Are you sure?" He asked.  
  
"As friends," Sarah said firmly, watching the light fade.  
  
He nodded, still smiling. With a critical eye, she decided that he was going to be okay with that. "So are you staying?"   
  
"Yeah," he said, looking around the apartment. "But what are we going to do?" He scratched his head.  
  
She tossed a dust rag at him. It slapped against his chest and slid down to puddle at his feet. "Start with the dusting," she commanded.   
  
With a laugh, he obeyed. She just hoped that he was going to be all right when Mr. High and mighty King poked his nose in the picture again. With a muttered curse, she thrust the thought from her mind. She had spent enough energy worrying about how she was going to deal with the Goblin King's attention, not to mention the mental beating-up she had been giving herself for taking the man to McDonald's! Though, she told herself, he did seem to enjoy it. With a vicious spray of cleaner, she pushed him to the edge of her mind.   
  


* * *

Once they finished cleaning, they flicked on the television and found an old movie. Marcus ordered for pizza. Sarah was gingerly stuffing a piece into her mouth when the phone rang.  
  
"Oh no!" Eyes wide, she hastily chewed on the pizza she had bitten off, swallowing it down by the second ring. Clearing her throat, she lifted the receiver.  
  
"Hello?" She asked, pizza still in her throat. She swallowed on more time.   
  
"Ms. Williams?" A distinctive voice asked.   
  
Sarah gripped the phone tighter, motioning for Marcus to turn down the sound on the television. He obeyed. "Mr. Peabody, it's nice to hear from you." She said, wondering what he could be calling about.  
  
"I'm just calling to tell you that I've been called out of town." He said, answering her unspoken question. "You're going to have to get this thing done on your own." He said.  
  
"All on my own?" She asked.  
  
"Well, of course, Mr. King is going to be staying in your neck of the woods until y'all are done." She could almost see him smile through the phone. "I'm going to want it by the 17th." he said.  
  
Sarah gasped. "Yes sir," she stammered. That only gave her two weeks!  
  
"I'm sure you'll get it done," he said. In the background, Sarah could hear the blare of a PA system, announcing flights. He must be at the airport. "I've got to go," he said. "Mr. King will be able to contact me if you absolutely need to, but he's in charge."   
  
"Yes, sir." She said again. The phone clicked in her ear as he hung up.  
  
Marcus was watching her, curiosity blatant on his face.   
  
"Mr. King is in charge. The catalog and site are due in two weeks," she said, slumping down onto the couch.   
  
Marcus stared at her, then seemed to realize that she was being completely serious. He exhaled loudly, wiping his hand across his brow. "That's a lot of work!" He said.   
  
Sarah nodded.   
  
He leaned forward and grabbed another piece of pizza. She looked at him quizzically. "I'm going to enjoy tonight." He declared with a grimace. "It looks like we're not going to get much down time for the next couple of weeks!"   
  
Nodding her weary agreement, Sarah grabbed a piece of the cheese-covered meal. She raised it to him in salute, and bit in.   
  


* * *

That night, as the moon rose over the city, Sarah found herself wandering in the kitchen, rubbing her tummy. "Pizza," she groaned. Marcus had left long hours ago, yet her stomach hadn't allowed her to sleep yet.   
  
She finally found the blister packet of pills, popping one and swallowing it dry. She filled a glass of water and sat slowly sipping it until the ache in her stomach decreased. Yawning, she wandered back to her bed. Her clock said that it was after midnight, and she and Marcus had planned to get together early. Mr. Kinson had instructed them to delegate their other work so that the Peabody project could get finished in time.   
  
Lying down, Sarah let her eyes close and felt the softness of the mattress beneath her head. She drifted off, her mind taking her effortlessly into sleep. Into a dream.  
  
A windswept beach. The water lapped mere feet away. The breeze, fresh and fragrant, tossed her hair. Her feet were bare. She wore a blue nightgown. The beach stretched endlessly on either side, and a high cliff was behind her.   
  
She took a tentative step forward, her feet sinking into the gritty sand. With a rush, a wave came up to meet her, brushing her toes. She found herself laughing. The water was white and green, the sand a pristine white. She walked forward, the water soaking her gown and leeching upwards. It was warm.   
  
"Careful, Sarah." Came a voice from behind her, causing her to straighten and stumble as the next wave pulled at her. Instantly, a hand was on her arm, another wrapping around her waist. She was lifted off her feet, pulled against him, into his arms.  
  
She stared up into his face, feeling lost. There was no feeling there. He set her back on her feet and stepped away. "There's kraaken in those waters," he explained.   
  
Blinking, Sarah looked out toward the ocean she had been stepping in. Far off in the distance the water splashed. Kraaken. Huge octopi. She shivered. She looked at him in mute thanks.  
  
He ignored it. "I don't think they would have come up to the beach, but let's not take chances, shall we?" He asked with an empty smile.   
  
Although she wanted to feel something, fear, anger, anything, Sarah found herself strangely empty. Devoid of emotion. She watched the water mutely.   
  
He stood beside her. She could feel his eyes on her, all his attention focused. "Why are you here, Jareth?" She asked, her voice soft and even. She wasn't even curious. The water mesmerized her, kept her quiet.   
  
"What do you want from me, Sarah?" He asked.  
  
"I want you to leave me alone." She replied truthfully.  
  
He digested this bald statement. "I don't think so."   
  
She allowed this. "Why do you want to court me?" She asked, instinctively choosing the archaic word.  
  
He moved a bit closer, his shoulder brushing hers. Together, they stared out at the green water. "Have you ever heard of a soul mate?" He asked.  
  
She laughed. "Of course, but that's just a joke. There's really no such thing." She said, risking a glance at him.   
  
"Perhaps among humans," he suggested. "I am not human, Sarah."   
  
Her brow crinkled as she thought of that statement. It struck a chord in her memory, but she couldn't place it. "No, you're the Goblin King." No one human could be that evil, she told herself.   
  
"That's my job, Sarah." He said, voice softer than she had ever heard it. "It's not what I am. It's my role. I am Jareth. I am Fae." He said the words with a near-explosive rush of breath. "I'm not supposed to tell people," he commented. "Fae laws and all." His hand waved within her range of vision.   
  
She turned slowly, focusing on him. "You're a fairy?" She asked, still, somehow, unable to feel any strength of emotion within herself.   
  
He sighed. "A Fae, yes."   
  
"Fae have soul mates?" She asked, tilting her head. The water rushed on and on. It was so nice and peaceful.   
  
He nodded, not looking at her. He stared out across the endless ocean. "We are magical beings, and immortal, as well. If we are lucky, we find our soul's Lady, the woman who can share our lives with us." He looked directly at her now. "I am, however, the only Fae I have ever heard of with a human soul mate." He sounded annoyed.   
  
"You think I'm your soul mate?" Sarah asked gently.   
  
He remained stubbornly silent. "You have said yourself that you know me, that you have felt the "goodness" inside of me. There is no other woman who has seen that." When he looked at her again, his eyes were naked and pained.  
  
Sarah took a step back. "I never..." she stammered. Her mind whirled. She didn't remember saying anything like that. When....  
  
His eyes locked with hers. She felt something slither, a change in the air. She looked down at his hands, half-expecting to see a crystal forming in his palm. Instead, a blackness was creeping up his arms. It began at his fingers, a mist that formed from nothingness and moved swiftly to cover him entirely.   
  
"Camouflage," his voice echoed from the blackness. Sarah wanted to feel shocked, horrified, and angry. All she felt was accepting. She understood. The swish of the water took everything else from her. The blackness disappeared. "I will not use it again." He told her.   
  
"It was because of me, wasn't it?" She asked.   
  
He knew what she was referring to: his job in her world. He nodded. "I only have two weeks. After that, I must return to the Labyrinth."   
  
She stared at him. There was no cruelty to his face, no anger, no mocking. "Two weeks."   
  
He turned back to the tide. "You must make your decision by then. When I return, I wish to bring my Queen back with me." He faded out, becoming invisible. "Please, Sarah," his voice echoed across the Cliffside.   
  
She was alone.   
  


* * *

Jareth materialized in a dark stairwell. With an annoyed flick of his hand, he darkened the lenses of the cameras that were positioned above him. He clothed himself in appropriate attire and painstakingly erased the paint from his face. Men didn't wear such things in this realm.   
  
He walked up one flight and into a busy hallway. People were walking here and there, into and out of offices. He carefully straightened his tie.   
  
A trio of men ran past him, pushing people out of the way. One was speaking swiftly into his hand. They threw open the door to the stairwell and lunged down it. Before the door thudded shut, he could hear their steps pounding as they went down.   
  
One eyebrow climbed, and he shook his head. "How rude!" He resumed walking, heading for the meeting room that had been designated for their meetings. Theirs, he thought, glancing around at the glassed-in offices on either side of him. His, and Sarah's. A smile crossed his face, feeling very unfamiliar. He quickly damped it down.   
  
He reached the door. The room was closed off from the hallway. He couldn't see inside of it. He paused before the door to push his magical senses. They sputtered, the strange Earth energy making them sluggish, but did respond. Sarah was in there... and that man. Jareth frowned.   
  
"Why did she ask him?" He muttered aloud. He smoothed his tie one last time - having seen that it was an important grooming gesture in Sarah's world, and pushed open the door.   
  


* * *

TO BE CONTINUED...............  
  



	8. Going Courting -- Part Eight

  
  
  


Going Courting Part 8   
By ACJ Leveille   


  


f Author's Note: Sorry this is slow going - I've been having computer problems, and so has Fanfiction.net apparently. Anyway. See previous parts for all disclaimers, and I'll post the next part as soon as I can. Thanks for all the reviews, and read on!   


* * *

Sarah awoke to darkness, but her nose was still full of salt-smell. She could still hear the wash of waves against the shore.   
  
"Soulmates?" She asked aloud. Impossible, she scorned. Didn't that mean that they had to love each other? She certainly didn't love Jareth, King of the Goblins!   
  
Okay, she admitted to herself, she was attracted to him, but who wouldn't be? With those sad eyes and his air of sensuality, he must draw women like flies! He even looked good in a suit, her ever-helpful mind supplied before she ruthlessly shut down that line of thought.   
  
It was clear, though, that he had no intention of leaving her alone any time soon. Her dream, especially given who it came from, had been no dream. Of that she was certain.   
  
But how was she supposed to handle his attention? She wanted to do as Marcus had suggested so many times - call the police. Have him arrested.   
  
The thought caused both a laugh and a groan. A laugh because the thought of a bunch of police officers - and they'd need a lot of them - chasing the Goblin King was nothing short of ludicrous. A groan because it was all too easy to see Jareth's infuriated face when he found out what she had done. No, she realized, she must be adult about this. Going to the police would be sheer cowardice!   
  
She couldn't just give into him, though. He would run all over her!   
  
So why was she humoring him, she wondered? Why hadn't she just called the police? Why hadn't she just convinced him Marcus was her boyfriend, her lover? Why did she take him to lunch - to a place that she had hoped, actually hoped, that he would enjoy? Why was she tolerating his playing? And worst of all, why did she feel truly happy for the first time in years when she was with him?   
  
Can I actually feel something for him? Could I, as he says, love him?   
  
The notion of it kept her awake most of the night.   
  


* * *

  
"Look, this is impossible!" Marcus protested, waving a hand at the paper-covered table.   
  
Jareth, Mr. King, blinked. "Why?"   
  
Sarah, watching the two, sighed yet again. Marcus had spent the morning trying to antagonize Jareth, but not in any way that mattered. He was treating Jareth like he was indeed a co-worker - being agonizingly nice and yet arguing infintesimal points at random. Sarah could have told him that it was useless. Jareth didn't care what Marcus thought.   
  
"Peabody needs a catalog that will interest a wide range of customers - both adults and children. No adult is going to be interested in a catalog filled with pictures of castles and kings!"   
  
"Oh no?" Mr. King asked. He looked at Sarah, those blue eyes flaming. Sarah acknowledged that maybe Marcus was indeed having an effect. "What do you think, Miss Williams?" He bit out between his teeth.   
  
Sarah glanced between Jareth and Marcus, each looking at her; Marcus defiantly, Jareth with a hint of triumph in his eyes. "I don't know," she said readily. "I think that the designs could interest some, but I do know that Marcus is the expert in market research, not me."   
  
Sarah saw anger flare to life in his eyes, but it was swept away in a heartbeat. After a moment, Mr. King nodded his agreement. "I will leave you to make your decisions. I'll meet with you on the last day of this week to discuss what you have done so far. Please remember that you will have but one more week after that until Mr. Peabody returns." He stood swiftly, easily, and strode toward the door.   
  
"Wait, Mr. King!" Marcus said.   
  
"Yes," the platinum haired businessman said, barely turning.   
  
"How are we supposed to finish all of this in a week and a half?"   
  
Mr. King shrugged slightly. "That is your job, not mine." He left.   
  
Marcus turned to Sarah, "Well, that was very helpful." He snarled, obviously angry.   
  
Sarah was taken aback. "Other clients have asked for worse," she reminded him. "And it is our job to accomplish what the client wants!"   
  
The man sighed. "I know. Just... this Mr. King rubs me the wrong way. I can't believe that we have to work with him."   
  
Not looking at him, Sarah briskly began gathering the papers. "I know I'm a mere artist here, but I'm glad for the chance to work on this account."   
  
"It has nothing to do with the account!" Marcus protested. "It's all him."   
  
"We can't do anything about it, Marcus." She said.   
  
Marcus stilled, then turned to look at her. "What's wrong?" He asked. There was an odd tone in his voice.   
  
"What do you mean?" Sarah asked, honestly confused.   
  
"You're awfully quiet. Usually, you would have been all over those papers," he said. "What's going on with you?"   
  
Sarah slid a hand through her hair. "I don't know," she told him. "I really don't know."   
  
"He's bugging you, isn't he?" Marcus persisted.   
  
"No, not really!" She said, although, thinking about the dream, she realized that that might indeed be the technical truth. "Look Marcus, I've known Mr. King for years now," she confessed. "Once... once I hated him." She thought of the Labyrinth. Had she really hated him, even then? Oooh, he had been so annoying, so frustrating. He had teased and taunted her to no end, but... had she really hated him for it?   
  
"And now?" Marcus voice was tight when he interrupted her thoughts. His green eyes were steady. "What do you feel for him now?"   
  
"I don't know." Sarah said quietly, tucking the folder of papers into her briefcase.   
  
"You love him," Marcus said in a whisper, scrabbling along the table until he reached a chair, and then collapsing into it. "I don't believe it," he said dazedly.   
  
Sarah's head whipped toward him. "That's not it!"   
  
"Yes it is," he nodded. "I see it, your protection of him, your secret relationship with him. He must love you, too." Marcus said, thinking of the first time he had seen Mr. King, in his apartment. He still had no answers for that experience though, for the sudden appearance of the man, or for the owl that had flown from the room. He pushed it from his mind, not wanting to deal with it. He looked up to see naked hope in her eyes, but she hid it quickly.   
  
"I don't think so. I just... I don't know how I feel about him anymore." She shook her head.   
  
"I never had a chance, did I?" He wondered.   
  
"Yeah, you did." She confessed. "But..."   
  
"But..." He repeated with a smile. "I understand."   
  
She smiled in return, somewhat uncertainly. She left the conference room quietly.   
  
Once in the hallway, Sarah paused, thumping her head against the wall. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could you tell him that, she asked herself. In love with Jareth. Eyes clenched tightly closed, she thumped her head once more. Stupid. What kind of idiot are you?   
  
"Uh... Sarah?" A voice intruded.   
  
"Oh, hi Roberta." Sarah greeted, feeling her face flame.   
  
"Are you okay?" Roberta asked.   
  
Sarah nodded, already heading toward her desk. "I'm just fine," she assured the girl. Don't worry." Still, though, her head shook and, internally, she chanted. Stupid, stupid, stupid.   
  


* * *

  
"Heya!" Marcus twisted at the voice. The security guard, Peter Nichols, waved him over.   
  
"Hi," Marcus greeted warily.   
  
"I talked to that buddy of mine," the guard said. Marcus remembered when he had stopped to ask about stalking.   
  
"Oh yeah?" He asked, trying to find a way to explain that he didn't need the information anymore. Peter bent, reaching into a drawer, and pulled a card out.   
  
Marcus took a quick look. Special Police Unit. "He knows all about it," Peter said, waving. "I'd tell you some of what he told me, but I'd probably just get you all mixed up."   
  
"Uh, okay. I'll give him a call," Marcus said, not even really considering it.   
  
Peter nodded seriously. "Yeah, you should. Stalking seems to be pretty nasty." He shuddered for effect, then sat back down beside his partner.   
  
Marcus, dismissed, wandered out of the building and hailed a cab, giving the driver his address. He stuck the business card in his pocket and thought no more about it.   
  


* * *

  
"Eleven days left," Jareth mused, barely watching where he was going. A man bumped into him, calling out a rude name as he righted himself. Jareth growled, feeling a sudden, intense hatred for the anonymity that his sojourn on Earth gave him, and clasped his hands tighter behind his back.   
  
The sidewalk was full of people this afternoon, adults, children, animals. All talking, laughing, and some even screaming. "I miss my goblins," he mused, almost astonished when he realized what he was saying. That it was the truth. "Soon enough." He comforted himself.   
  
Did Sarah really understand what he had been trying to tell her? He had found himself, with her, back in the Labyrinth. It was her dream-self, he knew, though how she had traveled to the edge of Tranquility Bay was a mystery. The lulling waves had numbed him, and he had admitted more to her than he had intended to.   
  
It was going to hurt - a lot - when she looked into his face and spat. He shuddered, knowing that he had little hope. Eleven days.   
  
"Looking for something?" A man jumped in his face and asked. One cold look and he fell away. Jareth continued on.   
  
He wanted to return to the Labyrinth, to its familiar paths and people, but he couldn't waste time when he had so little. Even a slim hope was better than none, and she was his soulmate.   
  
Bringing a nail to his mouth and gnawing it, wishing he was wearing his elegant gloves, he admitted it to himself. "I waited too long." Acknowledging it didn't make his burden any easier. Inside, deep down, he still felt the ache to be with her. He had put it off so long... he should have pursued her as soon as she escaped his lands.   
  
She had been too young.   
  
She was an adult now. A woman. She wasn't a contrary, challenging teenager - she was a woman who knew what she wanted, and could relate to him. He wouldn't intimidate her.   
  
A smile crossed his face as he remembered her face in the dream. She had listened, had accepted his truths. Perhaps that was the way to go with her, he mused. His own mercurial mood shifts of late were no doubt bewildering her. He knew he should be reassuring her, convincing her of his sincerity, but instead he was flailing in his own emotional mess.   
  
"My dear Sarah," he mused, seeing for the first time what was around him. The sidewalk broke up ahead, revealing the green density of a park. Trees, grass. He headed toward it, moving steadily until he melted into the cool shadows. Leaning against a tree trunk, he head the birds chirping around him, heard the distant laughter. It was all too human.   
  
There was no magic rolling beneath him, reaching to touch him. No creatures bowing as he passed. No wall in this city moved as he neared it. The effort it took to change to an owl in this deadened land was enormous.   
  
Jareth wandered the city streets. "Wasting time," he murmured. "I should be with her." He knew it was true.   
  
He looked up into the leafiness above him and thought of the meeting he had been through. It seemed that, no matter his preparations, the work that Sarah did wasn't that easy. He refused to think that he was getting in too deep, but he wasn't quite sure anymore.   
  
A chill wind blew over his skin. He had sworn not to return to the Labyrinth, not that he had the strength to do it anyway. He was trapped in this magic-less realm. The thought crossed his mind... where was he going to stay?   
  
A feline smile creased his lips, a low laugh escaping. "Perfect," he murmured, standing.   
He looked across the street, to the busy people walking back and forth. A building reached high into the sky there. He had seen it before. Sarah lived close.   
  


* * *

To Be Continued....   
  


* * *


	9. Going Courting -- Part Nine

Going Courting Part Nine   
By ACJ Leveille   


  


* * *

Author's Note: Well, I'm really happy to hear from everyone who's enjoying this! It's great to know to people appreciate the work into putting into this piece. Thanks to all my readers, and my reviewers. Hope you enjoy this section. And don't worry - the end is being to show it's gleaming lights. Read on!   
  


* * *

He knocked twice before the door opened. He postured himself gracefully, hating waiting on her pleasure, soul mate though she was.   
  
"What?" She was startled to she him waiting on her.   
  
"Darling," he greeted, passing her and wandering into her living room. She shut the door - it thumped - and followed him.   
  
"What are you doing here?" She asked, eyes wide.   
  
She wasn't upset, he realized with a start. "Eleven days." He crooned, gently caressing her chin with one finger.   
  
"Eleven days?" She parroted, obviously confused.   
  
"That's all the time that we have, Sarah. I'm going to be honest with you. I don't think it's going to be enough." He said. On the walk to her apartment, he had mulled his options. It was clear that the only thing that had worked so far was his to-the-point honesty. In a dream.   
  
But, as his soulmate, did she deserve anything less? She said she loved him - saw his heart, the goodness that was inside of him. Days, weeks, he wondered if there was goodness inside of him, and this small slip of a girl professed complete faith in him.   
  
For years, he had dreamed of meeting the woman who would see through his exterior, the hurt he felt, his coldness, to the person inside that even he didn't know. The Fae lady of, he hoped, extraordinary beauty. He had dreamed of a lady well-versed in magical knowledge, as well.   
  
Sarah, though she didn't meet his 'requirements', was a truly lovely girl. He had not expected to find his life mate - his soul mate - in a human girl. A girl from Earth who called him, solved his Labyrinth and deserted him. Sometimes, the ways of destiny were truly bizarre.   
  
"Why don't you sit down?" Sarah suggested. Ignoring the sarcastic tone of her voice, he smiled.   
  
"Perhaps I should make myself more comfortable." He flicked his wrist, pulling strongly on his magic. His earthly clothing was replaced by his more familiar garb, tunic and pants. He drew a crystal into being, twirling it in the light. "Do you mind?" He asked her, setting it on her table.   
  
"What is it?" She asked, staring at the globe.   
  
"A crystal, of course," he smiled.   
  
"I know that," Sarah said. "What does it do?'   
  
Jareth sighed, seeing the agitation in her. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly.   
  
"I know," she said easily, sending warmth cascading through him, erasing all his fears that she would not be able to accept his proposal because she was scared of him. Her tone made it all too clear she didn't fear that he could hurt her. "I just don't know if I want to get anyway near that thing." She looked at the crystal warily.   
  
"You needn't." He said easily, setting the crystal down on her kitchen table. Though smooth and round, it stayed precisely where he had placed it. He moved away from the table. Sarah's eyes stayed on the crystal.   
  
"So, where am I going to sleep?" He asked, holding his breath once the question was out of his mouth.   
  
Her head whipped around. "What?" She asked.   
  
He smiled, trying to be bland. His heart throbbed quickly. Such delicate proceedings. "Come now, Sarah. I have no place to stay and I am bound in your realm for more than a week. Do you expect me to sleep on the street?" He teased.   
  
"Can't you stay in a hotel?" She asked, her mouth flopping wildly. All Jareth knew was that she hadn't said no. Yet.   
  
He ambled over to the couch, settling himself on it. Slow memories of her touch drifted through his mind. He blanked them out, focusing on the present with ruthless intensity. "As I said, I am concerned about the success of my... endeavor. I don't think living in a hotel will increase my chances of success, do you?"   
  
She was silent, her eyes wild. With a low moan, she thrust her hands up into her hair. "I'm not ready for this tonight." She muttered. She looked at him. "Don't you have any other options?" She pleaded.   
  
Jareth wondered why she wasn't kicking him out of her home, but only half-heartedly. He was forcing himself to remain calm and composed as the tension grew ever higher. "Sorry," he drawled.   
  
Sarah growled, twisting. She looked deep into the crystal he had placed on her table. Panic whirled in him. Surely, she wouldn't be able to see.... A heart crystal. A soul crystal, whatever one wanted to call it. An essential part of fae courtship that he knew must be included in his winning of Sarah. If she were to touch it... oh, such pain she could cause him. He forced himself to remain still while she leaned over the crystal. Finally, after an agonizing length of time, she turned 'round.   
  
"Okay, fine, but there are going to be some rules set here, all right?" She asked.   
  
Heart in his mouth, Jareth nodded dumbly. He wanted to fall to the floor, to close his arms around her and hold her close.   
  
"First," she started. "No macho head-games. No bullshit. You get me?" Her eyes drilled into him. "I want the truth and only the truth."   
  
"The truth," he murmured. She took it as an assent.   
  
"Second, I want my peace. If I'm working, and I ask you to leave me alone, you leave me alone. If I tell you I want you out, you get out. If you piss me off so bad I want you to leave, and I tell you that... I expect you to obey it."   
  
Jareth nodded, seeing stars floating on the edge of his vision. Relief as he had never known it before filled his body, making him feel ecstatically swollen. "Is that all?" He managed to get out.   
  
"No," she said, pointing one stiff finger at him. "There's one more thing. You sleep on the couch. My bedroom is off-limits." With that, she strode to her room and closed the door, sparing time to give him one last glance before she disappeared.   
  
Jareth leaned back against the couch and exhaled a long breath. Miraculously, she had agreed. He felt like dancing, like singing. He felt like flying. He walked to the soul crystal, not daring to touch it now that he had put it down, and looked into its depths.   
  
Murky shimmering inside. Flickers of light. It seemed right, seemed appropriate. He thought of the eleven days that he had until he left, and wondered if she would ever accept him in that time. At least now he was going to be near her. Things were looking up.   
  
  


* * *

Sarah waited until her bladder almost split before venturing outside her room again. It was from sheer pride. She grabbed a spare blanket and pillow before grandly exiting.   
  
Jareth was seated at the couch, still. She unceremoniously dropped the armload beside him, and wandered into the kitchen. A brief search of the fridge reminded her that she had very little in the apartment to eat, and then her bladder reminded her of its unhappy existence.   
  
When she re-emerged from the bathroom, hissing out a relieved sigh under her breath. Jareth had spread the blanket over the couch and made himself a quite cozy looking bed. Trust him to be able to adapt to anything, Sarah thought with a slight smile. She couldn't help commenting.   
  
"Made yourself at home, I see."   
  
He looked at her, pale eyes light under flyaway blonde hair. "I can't think of any reason why I shouldn't."   
  
She shrugged. Point to him. She stood, not really knowing what to do next.   
  
"Sarah," he started, tone actually hesitant.   
  
"Yes?" She asked when he trailed off without continuing.   
  
"I believe I'm hungry," he confessed.   
  
"You don't know if you're hungry or not?"   
  
He looked at her sharply. "Isn't there an evening meal that you eat on this planet?"   
  
Sarah laughed. "Dinner, you mean."   
  
"Dinner, supper, whatever," he waved his hands. "It doesn't matter to me what you call it, as long as it's food." His stomach gurgled loudly in emphasis.   
  
"All right," she gave in, pushing herself toward the kitchen. "We're going to have to order in though."   
  
He didn't seem to care. She reached into a drawer and pulled out a sheaf of papers - all restaurant menus. "Pick one," she said.   
  
He lightly ran his fingers along the edges of the multi-colored pages, rustling them. "These are choices of food?" He questioned.   
  
"Basically," Sarah agreed.   
  
He ruffled them again, feeling the weight of the paper and glancing at the pictures. "That one." He said finally.   
  
Sarah pulled it out, scrutinizing it. "Han's Hunan. They're actually pretty good." She admitted. "I'll call."   
  
She placed the order, and hung up the phone. "It'll be about thirty minutes," she informed her so-called houseguest. He nodded. The sat down on the couch, side by side, to wait.   
  
The waiting paled before the first five minutes passed.   
  
Sarah glanced over, quickly, then looked away. She tapped her fingers on her knee and sighed loudly. She looked at him again. She sighed again.   
  
"Sarah!" Jareth barked, after the third sigh. Sarah jumped.   
  
"What?" She asked.   
  
He glared at her.   
  
Sarah glared back. "This is my house, I can do whatever I want to do."   
  
Jareth's eyes narrowed, then rolled backwards. "You're right," he said, voice edgy. "But it is extremely annoying!"   
  
"Fine," she bit out. She glanced at her watch. No hope of food for a while yet. She looked once more, silently, at him, and let her eyes linger this time. His soft hair, his chiseled face. The stiff jaw that she half-remembered. "You know," she said suddenly, surprising herself. "It's kind of nice to have you around again."   
  
He turned to her, eyes wide. "Really?" He questioned, a grin forming.   
  
Sarah ducked her head. "It's kind of weird, though, at the same time. You were the blur in my dreams for so long... all the things you know about me." She shivered. "It's almost scary," she finished in a whisper.   
  
Jareth leaned closer. "You told me those things about yourself," he reminded her. "I didn't force you to tell me anything."   
  
"I know, I know," she waved off his concern. "I'm not blaming you."   
  
"It sounded like you were," he said quietly, almost grudgingly.   
  
"I didn't mean it to." She said. She lifted her eyes slowly, looked at him shyly. "Did you really mean it, you're looking for a bride?"   
  
His eyes lit - she saw them flare with emotion - and he smiled. "I did. Are you accepting my offer?" His chest puffed, and he proferred his hand in a regal manner.   
  
Sarah threw her hands in front of her, waving them frantically. "Whoa, there!" She said. "I'm just asking!"   
  
"Ahh." He said, dropping his hand. "I am sorry for pressuring you." He said stiffly, looking away from her.   
  
Sarah stared at him. "Did you just apologize?" She asked with a bubble of laughter.   
  
Jareth raised one eyebrow. "I'm not entirely uncouth!"   
  
"Could have fooled me," she muttered.   
  
"Really? Have I behaved all that abominably toward you? Really?" He asked.   
  
Sarah thought about it. "No, you haven't," she realized, surprised. She looked at him. "There have been times when you've actually been nice!"   
  
"Ah, you realize I'm not all bad!" Jareth smiled. "Such a warm and fuzzy feeling that gives me!" A pale, naked hand fluttered against his chest, drawing her attention.   
  
She forced her eyes away - the sight was somehow disturbing. They settled on his face. An abnormally red tint colored it. "Are you blushing?" Sarah asked, incredulous.   
  
"Hah, hah," Jareth laughed, clearly uncomfortable.   
  
Sarah opened her mouth to press the issue, but the doorbell pealed, interrupting her.   
  
With an apologetic smile, she retrieved their dinner, thanking the delivery boy as she gave him a tip. Jareth watched the procedure with avid curiousity.   
  
"May I see your money?" He asked.   
  
With a shrug, she dumped the change into his hand. The touch of skin on skin was electrifying. She pushed the sensation away, carrying their food into the kitchen. She pulled plates from a cabinet and served the food.   
  
"Are you coming to eat?" She asked as she set the plates on the table.   
  
Jareth obediently wandered in, seating himself at one end of the table.   
  
Sarah got two glasses of water and brought them to the table. She sat down, taking up her fork and digging in. She closed her eyes as she chewed, savoring the spicy, salty flavor. Her eyes flickered open as she slipped a second bite into her mouth. "You're not eating?" She asked.   
  
Jareth shook himself, blinking. He picked up his own fork, taking at bit of the pork mixture onto the tines. He tasted it, looking as if he were fearful of poison. After a moment, he chewed heartily.   
  
"Glad you like it,' Sarah said.   
  
They ate in peace.   
  
"You mind if I ask you a question?" Sarah asked, pushing her three-quarters finished plate away. Her hand pushed at her over-full stomach.   
  
Jareth, pushing the remains of his meal around on his plate, looked up. "Of course."   
  
"Why are you doing this?" She asked.   
  
He tilted his head, sliding his plate to the center of the table to meet hers. "I assume you are speaking of my quest for a bride?"   
  
Sarah nodded.   
  
He leaned backward in his chair. "I suppose," he said, running one slow finger down a lean cheek. She saw once again the square-cut nails and soft skin he had always kept hidden from her. The stark paleness of his hand contrasted with the bold, flaring colors of his eyeshadow. "I was lonely," he mused, drawling in his delectably accented voice.   
  
Sarah's mind snapped back to their conversation. "Lonely?" She questioned.   
  
Jareth stood, pacing in the room like a caged beast. He looked at her, his eyes turmoltous. "Think of it, Sarah. I am the King of the Goblins. My subjects are brainless mutated addle-wits. I have complete autonomy over my demesne, but it is a land of bogs and monsters!" His hand whipped up to tease at the pointed tips of his hair.   
  
"Don't you have any friends?" She asked. She had been listening, but not only to his words - also to the feelings behind them.   
  
Jareth laughed bitterly in response.   
  
"Yeah," Sarah said, "I guess I can't see you talking shop with a firey."   
  
This time the laugh was real. "I should hope not! Firey's are entirely too fond of other people's body parts!"   
  
"That's certainly true!" Sarah said, standing. She gathered their dishes, scraping the remains of their meal into the trash and setting the empty plates in the sink. With one hand she smothered a yawn.   
  
"Tired?" Jareth asked, his voice almost tender.   
  
Sarah nodded, eyes downcast. "I'm going to go to bed," she said. "I'll see you in the morning.   
  
Jareth nodded, ignoring the fact that it was still quite early.   
  
Sarah went into her room, mindful that it was still early. She felt Jareth's eyes on her back until she closed the door, and even then she would have sworn she could feel them piercing through the wooden barrier. Telling herself to put his presence out of her mind, Sarah read for an hour and a half before cutting off the light. Even then she rolled her eyes at the early hour. At least I'll be rested for tomorrow, she thought to herself.   
  
As she snuggled down into her sheets, trying to tell herself to sleep, she realized she couldn't remember anything of what she had read.   
  


* * *

  
Jareth tugged on the blanket Sarah had given him, turning his head into her pillow. It smelled of her - sweet and flowery. The scent warmed his heart. The glow in the room intensified.   
  
From his vantage point he could see the light under Sarah's door. If he was very silent, he could almost hear the dry swish of pages turning. He knew she was reading. As he watched, the light disappeared. She had gone to bed.   
  
He flipped over on the couch, facing the back of it. Now he had the brightness of his Heart Crystal staring him in the face.   
  
Perhaps it was a message, he thought. He didn't need to be confronted with the power of his feelings for the girl who lay but one room away. She was the one who need convincing!   
  
He shut his eyes, focusing on the Sarah-smell rising from the pillow. He wrapped himself in the blanket, expending just enough of his precious magic to conjure into being his favorite pair of black silk pajama bottoms.   
  
He let himself go boneless, and pretended he was lying in Sarah's arms.   
  


* * *

  
TO BE CONTINUED .....................   
  
  


* * *


	10. Going Courting -- Part Ten

****

  


Going Courting Part Ten   
by ACJ Leveille   


Author's Note:   
Okay, people. Sorry I took so long to get this out. Yes, the end is in sight. I'll try to push it out in one piece, but it's looking like it's going to be two. Thanks for all the reviews and comments, and thanks just for reading. I know that you could do other things with you time, and appreciate you choosing to read my fic. Usual disclaimer - I don't own anyone or anything. Okay, I own Marcus. I'll admit to that. Mine! All Mine! Ahem. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and don't worry, I'm working hard to get the next part out.   
  
  


* * *

Sarah woke up cursing at the alarm. She slapped at it, unable to unglue her eyes. The light was intense even through her eyelids. She didn't want to think about how bright it was with them open.   
  
She fumbled for her clothing, laid it out on her bed and headed from the bathroom. She was halfway there before she remembered Jareth's presence.   
  
Halting in the middle of the floor, she stared at him. He was sprawled over her couch, all traces of kingly dignity submerged by his sleeping self. He looked almost human!   
  
Tousled hair stuck out of the covers, and one slender hand kept a loose hold on a fold of blanket, and a black-clothed knee peeked out further down.   
  
Sarah's fingers itched to touch him. Lying there, he looked young and innocent - directly opposite of his usual cool and regal manner. Even as she watched, his mouth curved into a smile, held there for a second, then relaxed.   
  
She forced herself to remember to breathe. Dazed, she made it into the bathroom, starting the shower. She couldn't forget the honest brilliance of his smile.   
  
She scuttled into her bedroom when she was done. It was the first time she had ever considered - even for a minute - that her bathroom was inconveniently placed.   
  
Dressed and dry, she was soon ready for her day. She emerged, fixed herself a mug of instant cappuccino and wandered out to drink it where she could see the sun beginning to crest over the city skyline.   
  
As she left the apartment, having set her mug down in the sink with their plates and silverware, she noticed the crystal her guest had placed on her end table. It glowed softly, giving off a warm, vibrant light.   
  
Something stopped her from touching it, though she wasn't quite sure what. She knew, somehow, that the crystal would be gentle - it had to hold a beautiful dream! She had the feeling, though, that if she touched it, stroked it, her world would be re-arranged forever.   
  
She shuddered, remembering what some of Jareth's other crystals held: snakes, Cleaners, dangerous drugging dreams.   
  
She locked the door behind her when she left.   
  
The day seemed to pass in a daze, though no one made any comments on her comportment. Sarah supposed that she had gone through the motions sufficiently and thanked her stars that she had been in her job long enough to be able to do that.   
  
When she got home, well-laden with work that she hadn't been clearheaded enough to finish, she found Jareth watching television. He looked fascinated.   
  
"Is this what you did today?" She asked with a laugh.   
  
Jareth whipped around, facing her. "I didn't hear you come in," he said. The merest hint   
of displeasure colored his voice.   
  
"Do you want me to go out, knock, and then enter?" She asked.   
  
He smiled, all guardedness falling from his eyes. "You are entering the presence of a King," he reminded her. "Perhaps you would be wise to announce your presence, first."   
  
"In my own house?" Sarah chuckled, setting her briefcase on the corner of the end table. She gave the crystal a sideways glance, feeling a cold tingle run down her spine. "I don't think so!" She finished, forcing herself to sound hearty. She clicked open the briefcase, taking out a folder.   
  
"Work?" Jareth asked. "Tonight?"   
  
"Well, someone has demanded that our preliminaries be done by tomorrow." She told him, setting the papers on the table.   
  
Jareth was silent. "Have I caused you hardship?" He asked after a time.   
  
Sarah glanced up at him, grinning briefly. "Hey, I was just joking. We were going to have to do this stuff anyway." She looked back down at the papers, putting them in precise order.   
  
"Oh!" She groaned as an empty page came to the top of the pile. "I forgot!"   
  
"Forgot what?" Jareth asked. He worked his way to her side, leaning over her until the soft, spiky points of his hair were brushing her cheek. Sarah waved them away with her hand.   
  
"Forgot to ask Marcus how he wanted the formatting on this page done." She sighed, looking at the time. She had worked later than usual as it was. "I'm going to have to call him, I guess." She muttered to herself.   
  
"Call who?" Jareth asked, the old petulant whine sneaking into his voice again.   
  
"Marcus, of course," she said, sparing him a glance as she dialed.   
  
He answered on the fourth ring. He sounded tired.   
  
"Am I interrupting?" Sarah asked with a muffled chuckle.   
  
"Just more work!" He coughed out. "Sorry," he sighed loudly. "Did you need something?"   
  
"I need help with the catalog template page, layout person." He chuckled in response. "I guess I can come over and help you," he conceded.   
  
"Oh, can't you do it over the phone?" Sarah asked, looking at the lithe, hovering form of the Goblin King. He looked none too happy.   
  
"It will be faster in person, and I have a lot to do tonight," he said with the merest touch of acidity.   
  
"So do I," Sarah acknowledged, not even really hearing his goodbyes. She hung the phone up, twisting the cool blackness of it in her hands as she tried to think of where she could put her houseguest.   
  
"You're going to have to go in the bedroom," she said, resigned.   
  
"I beg your pardon?" He asked, straightening himself and looking down his nose at her.   
  
Shaking her head, not really believing what she was going to do, she led the way into her bedroom.   
  
The door thudded against the wall; she looked around swiftly, trying to see if anything had been left out that she wouldn't want him to see. Nothing. She turned, almost smacking head-on into him. She backed up a pace. A fierce heat suffused her face. She forced it back.   
  
"Just stay in here until I get back, okay?" She said, rumpling her hair with a fierce stroke.   
  
"Sarah." Jareth said. Not a question, not a comment, but just her name.   
  
She locked eyes with him, glaring. "Look, I can't have Marcus know that you're here, can I?" She demanded.   
  
"Marcus?" He asked. "Coming here?"   
  
"Look, I need some help with these layouts, Mr. King!" She said. "So you're just going to have to put up with it. You can amuse yourself for a little bit, can't you?"   
  
Jareth grabbed her shoulders, holding her tight. "Calm down." He commanded. Startled, she complied. "I can certainly take care of myself, and I do understand that you need your colleagues help." He assured her with a broad smile. "After all, what sort of spouse would I be if I disallowed this? Very ungentlemanly," he assured her, shaking his head.   
  
Sarah stared. "Uh, yeah," she said, turning, almost dazed. She reached the doorway. "I'll let you know when you can come out," she said.   
  
He bowed low. "I will endeavor to keep out of trouble." Sarah shut the door on his most beguiling smile. She quickly glanced around the apartment, seeing that the only thing that would even hint of His Majesty's presence was the glowing crystal that he still hadn't explained.   
  
A knock.   
  
Though she had been expecting it, Sarah jumped. She hurried to the portal, flinging it open. Marcus looked at her. "That's dangerous, you know," he commented as he crossed into her apartment.   
  
Sarah glared at him. "Here," she said, leading him to the table. "This is what I'm having trouble with." She pulled out the sheet.   
  
Marcus grabbed a chair, setting his own case on the table. He was careful not to disturb any of her papers, she noticed.   
  
"Oh," he said, seeing the rough title of the paper. "Here."   
  
Sarah drew up her own chair as he began to explain, glancing at the door to her bedroom and hoping that the explanation wouldn't take too long.   
  


* * *

  
Jareth lay quite still in the middle of Sarah's bed, having long ago gotten bored of looking out her single window onto the traffic below.   
  
He had read the bindings of each and every one of her books, mused over the two paintings she had displayed (one was an Escher piece) and even rifled through her drawers.   
  
He was bored. He heaved himself from the bed with a sigh, pulling the lavender vest he was wearing into place with an absent motion. He debated conjuring a crystal, then thought of turning himself invisible, and resigned himself to the fact that he didn't have enough magic for either one.   
  
He twiddled his thumbs. He indulged himself in a brief fantasy of what he could do with his Sarah in her soft, fluffy bed, all the while pacing. He finally sighed and told himself that Sarah wasn't his keeper.   
  
"What are you doing out there?" He asked her, though he knew she couldn't hear. "Is he that interesting to talk to?"   
  
He couldn't stand it anymore, and silently opened the door. He needn't have bothered being quiet, he realized. They were still thoroughly engrossed in their work. A growl built in his throat as he saw how close they were huddled, his head almost touching hers. "Mine!" He thought, and a crystal grew in his hand. With a paint-peeling curse in a long-dead language, he dismissed the sphere.   
  
He stilled, then smiled. "Oh, how perfect!" He crowed lowly, watching them work. The crystal returned, blinking in a second into a pint-sized goblin, who looked up at his king with a lost expression. Jareth grabbed the beast's mouth quickly, "Shush!" He commanded. The goblin nodded, earning his release.   
  
Jareth stepped back, looking at the green being. It wore a gray, shapeless cloth and had a two-horned cap over it's stringy red hair. "Go!" He commanded, pointing at the two. "Wreak havoc!"   
  
The goblin stared up at him, mouth agape.   
  
Jareth leaned against the wall, rolling his eyes. He glanced up at Sarah and Marcus once more to assure himself they were still lost in their own little world. They were, more's the pity. Sighing, he bent closer to the goblin's level. "Go. Pretend you're in my castle, I don't know." His tone grew more intense as the goblin stared more. Finally, with yet another growled curse, he conjured a chicken and flung it into Sarah's kitchen. The goblin watched with wide eyes, then panted and started after it.   
  
Jareth stood, watching for a brief second before going back into Sarah's bedroom and closing the door behind him. "Good!" He thought, and smiled.   
  


* * *

  
Sarah chewed on her lip, trying to listen to what Marcus was explaining to her. She couldn't focus. She was too busy worrying about what was going on in her bedroom.   
  
"Do you get it?" He asked.   
  
Sarah shook herself back to reality. "Uh.. yeah, I think so..." she stammered, knowing that she didn't understand a thing. She rubbed her forehead. "Jareth," she said to herself, "I'm going to kill you for this."   
  
"What is that?" Marcus asked, twisting in his seat.   
  
"What?" Sarah asked. Then she heard it. Scrabbling feet. Low laughter. Familiar sounds. Where had she heard that before? "Oh my..." she jumped up, running around the counter to look into her kitchen.   
  
The floor was filthy, covered in chicken droppings. An even dirtier goblin was chasing the creature around in circles, slipping and sliding in the bird dung. Sarah's eyes opened wide, and she looked blackly at the door to her bedroom.   
  
"It sounds like a chicken," Marcus continued, coming toward her.   
  
Sarah whipped around, pushing him away from the sight. "It's my dishwasher," she lied, "It does this sometimes." Heat crept up her face. I never was any good at lying, she said to herself.   
  
He goggled. "I think you need to get that fixed," he said.   
  
"I know," Sarah blustered, grabbing his briefcase and shoving it at him. Come on, she muttered in her head, get out! "I will," she promised him.   
  
"Sarah," Marcus asked, stopping in the middle of her living room. "What's that?" He asked, pointing.   
  
She rolled her eyes. "What?" She asked, tapping a foot. She glanced over at the kitchen before trying to find what Marcus was pointing at. The crystal. "Oh. That." Think, Sarah, think! "It's a gift," she said, "from a friend."   
  
His forehead crinkled. "I think I've seen something like that before," he said.   
  
"Here," Sarah said, once more trying to give him his briefcase. This time he took it, and she pushed him at the door. "I've got lots of work to do," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow. What time is that meeting?" She asked, cheering mentally as he cleared the doorframe.   
  
He turned, looking a little lost. "I don't know," he said, blinking. "Ten?" He guessed.   
  
Sarah nodded. "You're right," she said. "I remember." She started to shut the door. "I'll see you then!"   
  
"Bye Sarah!" He called as the clicked the closed. Exhaled explosively, she leaned against the back of the door with her eyes closed. The pitter-patter of feet continued, coming closer. Sarah opened her eyes to see a two-pronged helmet heading straight for her.   
  
The chicken veered to the side, but the goblin couldn't stop in time and ran straight into her. Luckily, she caught the helmet before it gouged her in the stomach, but the smelly goblin still ran smack into her legs.   
  
It slid, crying out in a weird, warbling voice, and hit the door with a loud thud. It began to cry. The chicken kept running in circles, cackling as chickens are wont to do. Sarah threw her hands in the air and moaned. She looked around her apartment - at the white tracks on her carpet, and felt like crying herself.   
  
"This is not my fault," she told herself. She straightened up and marched over to her bedroom, throwing open the door and stalking in. She went straight to her closet and grabbed a clean pair of jeans and T-shirt, making sure that the clean close didn't touch the dirt smears on her legs where the goblin had clutched at her.   
  
She turned, glaring at Jareth. He was sitting on the end of her bed, looking quite out of place.   
  
"Your goblin is crying," she told him.   
  
"So?"   
  
She rolled her eyes back into her head. "I'm going to take a shower," she announced. "When I get out, I expect the goblin to be gone. I expect the chicken to be gone. I expect my carpets to be clean. Do you understand?" She pierced him with one look.   
  
Jareth sighed. "Sarah," he began.   
  
"Don't Sarah me," she barked. "I am not in the mood." She pointed a finger. "Get out of my room."   
  
Sighing again, he slid to his feet, the very embodiment of grace. He slipped out of the room without a sound.   
  
Mumbling under her breath, she followed him, closing the door firmly behind her. She went into the bathroom, not daring to look at the goblin, who was still sobbing over by her door, or the visiting king who was wandering in her apartment.   
  


* * *

  
"Perhaps we had best clean up, indeed," Jareth muttered. Perhaps, he reflected, that wasn't one of my best ideas. He looked around at Sarah's clean apartment and felt an odd sensation in his chest. Was it regret? Impossible.   
  
The chicken was gone in one blink. The goblin lay, still dazed, where it had hit the door. Jareth strode over to it, kicking it lightly with the toe of his soft-leather boot. "Get up," he commanded.   
  
It obeyed, staggering to its feet. It wiped it's wet eyes and runny nose on the arm of it's clothing, just as a little child might. The king rolled his eyes. "Go home," he told it, feeling tired. The goblin looked up at him, eyes wide and lost. Again.   
  
"Do you understand nothing?" He asked it. It still stared at him. Tears fell from its eyes.   
  
Growling, listening with one ear to the movements in the bathroom and the faint hiss of the shower spray, he reached down, pulling the mangy little goblin into his lap. "Calm down," he murmured, soothing the creature. It obeyed, leaning into the king.   
  
"Now will you go?" He asked it. He conjured a crystal, and the creature jumped right into it. Jareth looked around the mess that was left. "Still more magic lost," he muttered. With a slow wave of his hand, everything disappeared, but he felt tired as a result. He slumped down in the soft, fluffy couch cushions and tried to rest, knowing, somehow, that Sarah wasn't done with him yet.   
  


* * *

  
Sarah emerged cleaner and in a better mood, pulling her hair back out of her face. She found the Goblin King lying flat out on her couch, eyes closed and mouth hanging open. She listened for a snore, but was disappointed.   
  
She sat there, watching him for an instance. The image flashed through her mind of him sitting on the edge of her bed. She had imagined him in her bed more than once, especially recently. She shook the thought away, and did the same with the almost-tenderness that was sneaking up on her as she looked at him.   
  
"You have some explaining to do," she announced, aiming a fist as his foot. It connected solidly, and she found that he had hard feet. "Ouch!" She moaned.   
  
Jareth's eyes opened and he sat up. A smile played at the corners of his mouth, but it was small. His eyes were dark and almost sorry. Where did I get that from, she wondered.   
  
"Look, I have work I have to get done tonight," she started, "And I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing!"   
  
He watched her stalk back and forth as she got wound up. "I told you to stay in the room. I told you to be quiet! Why did I ever think I could trust you?" She asked, finally throwing herself on the couch beside him, arm over her face.   
  
"I'm sorry," he said.   
  
The arm fell away. Sarah looked at him, incredulous. "Another apology?" She asked.   
  
He nodded. "I should have let you do your work," he grimaced. "I just have a hard time with him around." He confessed.   
  
"Him?" She asked. "Marcus."   
  
Jareth was silent, and she could see him wrestling with himself. "You're not jealous, are you?" She asked.   
  
His eyes locked with hers, and there was anger there, and... embarrassment?   
  
"Oh, you don't have to be jealous about him!" She laughed. "He's a friend!"   
  
His eyes narrowed. "What is that supposed to mean?" He demanded.   
  
"Well, I would never think about dating him, not anymore. He's just no competition whatsoever for you!" She laughed.   
  
"Competition?" A twinkle came to his eyes. "So, you do believe I'm worthy of dating you, at least?" He asked.   
  
Sarah gulped, eyes widening as she realized what she had unwittingly revealed. Her laughter was long gone. "I guess you could say that," she said.   
  
"How very interesting," Jareth commented.   
  
Sarah blushed, and then remembered why she was talking to the Goblin King in the first place. "Don't distract me!" She commanded.   
  
He froze, and then took her hand gently in his own. "I'm sorry, Sarah," he said again. "It was childish of me to bring that goblin here," he admitted. "Especially since I told you that I would be able to entertain myself - which clearly wasn't the case. I have no excuse," he continued, silencing her when she would have spoken, "and I fully realize it."   
  
She stared at him, shocked, for a full minute before she was convinced he was serious. "Well," she said finally, "at least you cleaned up." She stood, at a loss. All her anger was gone, and now she had a headache.   
  
He nodded. "All right then, now that the unpleasant business is over, can we get back to the part about me being worthy of dating you?" He asked.   
  
Sarah fled to the kitchen.   
  


* * *

  
"Are you ready to talk yet?" Jareth asked, an hour later. He sat down in the chair beside her, looking at her in a way that could almost be described as intimate.   
  
"I don't have time," she told him, shoving a hand through her hair. She glanced around the papers covering her table and sighed. "I have to finish this," she reminded him.   
  
He put his hand on his wrist and watched her.   
  
"Jareth," she said after three or four minutes of his unblinking attention. "Please."   
  
"Can't you do that some other time?" He asked.   
  
Sarah rolled her eyes. "You know, you're the one that set up this meeting tomorrow, not me."   
  
"Meeting?" He said, sitting up. "I had forgotten about that," he acknowledged. He stood, wandering. Sarah watched him for a moment, then shook her head and went back to her work.   
  
"Is this going to take you a long time?" He asked, twenty minutes later.   
  
"Do you need something?" She asked, looking up from the papers she was working on.   
  
"I'm hungry." He said. Sarah applauded his attempt to keep the commanding tone out of his voice.   
  
"You know where the menus are," she told him. "Choose something and I'll call." She thought for a moment. "I think that I have enough to get dinner."   
  
Jareth waved her concern off. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it." She watched, curious, as he somehow produced the handful of change that she had given him the other night.   
  
"I don't want to know," she said, forcing herself to look away. She refused to acknowledge the poof of glitter that surrounded his hands.   
  


* * *

  
"I think you're doing well," Mr. King said, eyeing the work critically.   
  
Sarah rolled her eyes, shoving the papers back in her bag. Marcus wasn't so nice. "What do you mean, doing well?" He asked.   
  
Mr. King was puzzled. "Did I say something wrong?" He asked Sarah.   
  
"Isn't there something you want changed? Something that's off? Isn't there something you forgot to tell us?" Marcus demanded.   
  
Mr. King shook his head, mystified. "I don't think so." He glanced at Marcus' half of the project, still spread out over the table. "I think you both did very good work here," he said.   
  
Sarah goggled, as did Marcus.   
  
"I'll expect the finished product ready for development by this Friday," he reminded them with a slight smirk. "I'm sure you'll have it ready."   
  
He stalked out the door and into the carpeted hallway, shutting the portals to the conference room beside him. Once there, he shut his eyes. "Done with," he muttered to himself, tugging at his collar. "Now to get out of these ridiculous clothes."   
  


* * *

  
"Something weird is going on," Marcus said, picking up his own papers.   
  
"What do you mean?" Sarah asked, glancing over at him. Her things were already packed away.   
  
He looked at her, admiring the fall of her long, dark hair. He shook himself. She was a friend, not a potential bedmate! "I don't know," he said, bringing himself back to the conversation. "I can't put my finger on it exactly, but something is just not right about that man!" He clicked his briefcase shut with one push, and dragged it off the table. Sarah winced, feeling for the expensive leather.   
  
He held the door for her. "Nice job you did on those layouts, by the way."   
  
She looked back at him as they walked toward the elevator. "Thanks for the help," she returned with a smile.   
  
"Hey," he said, looking at her as he pushed the up button. She was pushing the down. "That's what friends are for, right?"   
  
Sarah nodded her head, laughing slightly. The elevator chimed, the up light blinking, and Marcus stepped on. The doors slid shut on his grinning face, and Sarah let her smile fall. She pinched the bridge of her nose, listening for the chime for the next elevator car. It binged, and she got in the empty box. She pushed the button for her floor, and the lights blinked as the mechanism whirred to life. "Why," Sarah wondered aloud, watching the numbers descend, "do I feel like my life is falling apart?"   
  
  
Saturday morning, Sarah slept in. Jareth awakened at his usual hour - ten-ish. He stood, stretched, and was surprised to find that his host wasn't up yet. He decided to make coffee.   
  
The rich smell awakened her, and she blinked to realize what exactly the scent was. "Just like a commercial," she muttered to no one, climbing out of her covers.   
  
"You know how to make coffee?" She muttered as she came into the kitchen.   
  
Jareth turned, "I am somewhat independent." He said.   
  
"Yeah, I guess goblins can't handle everything," she said, smothering a yawn.   
  
Jareth fit a mug into her hand, and steered her toward the table. He sat down opposite of her. "What are we doing today?"   
  
Sarah paused in her skull rubbing. "What do you mean, we?" She asked.   
  
"Well, This is the only weekend I'm going to have to convince you of my... sincerity... so I think that you are obligated to ... shall we say... co-operate?" He smiled.   
  
"Since when am I in any way obligated by this quest of yours?" She asked, taking a sip of the coffee. She winced, and went to the refrigerator to get the milk.   
  
He watched her, a lazy smile twisting his lips. "Since you told me that I actually had a chance."   
  
Sitting down, she groaned.   
  
"You've given me hope, Sarah," he continued in a purr. "And I find myself... renewed... by your comments."   
  
"You were giving up?!" She squawked.   
  
Jareth stood. "Until yesterday, my dear, I didn't think I had a chance," he confessed. "But don't worry, now that I know your feelings, I have no doubts about my success." He leaned down, touching his lips to her own before she could divine his intention. Then he was gone.   
  
Sarah moaned, cradling her head in her hands. "When am I going to learn to keep my mouth shut?" She asked herself.   
  
"Oh," Jareth added, popping back into the room. "You have half an hour to decide what we're doing, or..."   
  
"Or what?" Sarah asked, raising her head enough to glare at him.   
  
"Or I will!"   
  


* * *

  
TO BE CONTINUED............   
  
  


* * *


	11. Going Courting -- Part Eleven

****

  


Going Courting Part Eleven   
By ACJ Leveille   


  


Author's Note:   
I'm sorry this took so long to get out, but it is the end. Finally. Well, this and an epilogue, which is being posted right after this, so it really is over. I'm surprised to find myself so sad. I'm happy its over, and I like how it worked out, but... now that's it's gone... sigh. Okay, let me know what you think, how it worked out, that sort of thing. Thanks for bearing with me this long time, and I hope you enjoyed. I certainly did! Oh, and thanks to all my reviewers, you mean so much to me!   
  
  
*** Previous part***   
  
Jareth stood. "Until yesterday, my dear, I didn't think I had a chance," he confessed. "But don't worry, now that I know your feelings, I have no doubts about my success." He leaned down, touching his lips to her own before she could divine his intention. Then he was gone.   
  
Sarah moaned, cradling her head in her hands. "When am I going to learn to keep my mouth shut?" She asked herself.   
  
"Oh," Jareth added, popping back into the room. "You have half an hour to decide what we're doing, or..."   
  
"Or what?" Sarah asked, raising her head enough to glare at him.   
  
"Or I will!"   
  
*** *** ****   
  
Of course, she chose.   
  
"All right," she snarled at him, stalking out of the kitchen when two minutes to spare. "I'll be ready in ten minutes." She disappeared into her room. Jareth watched after her, raising his eyebrows. He tried not to laugh.   
  
She appeared in nine minutes, dressed and presentable. She wore jeans and a sheer blouse, and a rich purple vest over those.   
  
"I see your taste in clothing hasn't changed," he commented, looking her over.   
  
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Come on," she said, grabbing his wrist. Her eyes shot to his, hesitated for a second, then flew away. She grabbed the door, and they were heading down to the street.   
  
Jareth, having magicked himself new clothing while they were alone in the elevator, was silent for about three blocks of their walk. "Where are we going?" He asked as they passed another intersection.   
  
"We're going to catch a bus," she told him.   
  
"A bus?" He repeated. She smiled at how horrified he sounded.   
  
"Oh, don't worry," she crooned, stopping at a bus shelter. "It doesn't hurt."   
  
The vehicle pulled to a halt a few minutes later, the door opening with a screeching whine. Sarah pushed him inside, showing the driver a ticket. "Pass," she explained. Jareth nodded like he understood.   
  
They rode for a bit. Sarah was silent, staring out the window. Jareth watched the tall buildings change to complexes, then into rolling farmland. When the bus ground to a halt, six or seven stops later, they were at a small-town train station.   
  
Sarah indicated that it was their stop, and Jareth slid from his seat. "We're lucky," she commented as she jumped down off the last stair. "This bus line goes all the way here. The fairground is just over there," she pointed. Off in the distance Jareth could hear music and laughter.   
  
"A fairground?" He asked, looking askance.   
  
"An amusement park," Sarah said with a smile.   
  
They walked to the sidewalk. Now that he was on the street, he could see that the park wasn't that far down at all. "Have you been to this place before?" He asked her.   
  
"Of course! I grew up around here! Everyone's been here!" She stopped, turning to him and walking backwards. "You've never been to an amusement park?" She asked him.   
  
He didn't like the look in her eyes. "I've heard of them," he said. "I have never been to one."   
  
Her eyes sparkled, he decided. A gleam that he would have termed maniacal from any other person.   
  
"Ooh, you'll love it!" She crowed, wrapping her fingers around his wrist one more time, and tugging him down the sidewalk.   
  


* * *

  
Two hours later, they wandered arm in arm.   
  
"It is... different," he admitted to her. "It seems closer to my world than to yours."   
  
Sarah smiled at him, tucking a clump of hair behind her ear. "I don't know about that, but... it's fun!" She declared.   
  
She noticed Jareth's smile and felt her heart lift. "I'm glad you're having fun," she said, looking around the fairgrounds. The sun had peaked, and sweat was beading on Sarah's brow. "Besides, we still haven't done the roller coaster yet!" She exclaimed.   
  
"What?" He asked. She pointed. Off they went.   
  


* * *

  
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!" She screamed, almost directly into his ear. She noticed that he was clutching the bar on the small car, deadly silent. She leaned closer to him. "Are you okay?" She asked.   
  
He nodded once. The barest trace of a smile turned the corners of his lips.   
  
"You're supposed to scream," she told him loudly. Noise echoed all around them. She felt insulated in their car, her leg brushing his, and his hair touching her shoulder.   
  
"I don't scream," he said, not having to raise his voice. Magic, she realized. She rolled her eyes and screamed again.   
  
There was a bump, and a frission of fear tightened her muscles. She had ridden this coaster many times before, and there had never been a bump. The scream died in her throat as the car bumped again. "Oh my god," she found herself whispering.   
  
"What is it?" Jareth asked, leaning close to her. "Is something wrong?"   
  
The car lurched to the side, and the sudden silence descended on the riders. Everyone seemed to realize that something was wrong. Sarah remembered all of the statistics, all of the horror stories, and forced them out of her mind. "It's going to be okay," she told herself.   
  
There came a harsh metallic ringing, and she risked a look over the side, gulping to see how far above the ground they were riding. The cart kept going, thankfully. She didn't know if she could have taken being stopped in the middle of the track, or worse, in the middle of a loop!   
  
"Sarah!" Jareth's voice made her realize that her eyes were closed. She whipped the open, looking at him. His blonde hair was flying in the wind. She focused on his eyes. He looked worried. "Is there a problem?" He demanded.   
  
She wanted to tell him everything was okay. She looked over the side again, steeling her stomach first. There were people gathered below, pointing up at the coaster. The silence was eerie as the coaster ripped along the track. More people were gathering below, and she could see that most of them wore the uniform of the park employees. "Something's wrong," she said, feeling her heart plummet.   
  
This wasn't how she wanted to die, she realized. She looked at him, at Jareth. She couldn't believe that she was going to die sitting next to the Goblin King.   
  
"What?" He asked. At the same time, the cart leaned alarmingly. Screams rang out, but not light screams of fun. They were screams of real fear. Sarah gripped the bar tighter, watched as her fingers turned white. She saw heads swiveling around her.   
  
She just stared at him, unable to speak. They headed down a curve. They had finished most of the track. Maybe it would stay on the track until they reached the end. The cart lurched once more, this time bucking and screeching in its tracks. This time the screams were made of authentic terror.   
  
Sarah knew two things in that moment, two truths in all the chaos. She looked deep into Jareth's blue eyes and told him. "We're going to die," she said, then, "I love you." She froze that moment in her memory, the wonder and amazement on his face, and then snapped her eyes shut. She held tightly to the bar and hoped, as the bucking started yet again, that it wouldn't be that painful an end.   
  
The ride smoothed. It was sudden. Unexpected. The rail clicked by and the screams and moans echoed around her. She heard people crying. All sound died down. She cracked one eye open. The track slid by smoothly, the car taking the curves and twists effortlessly. Her mouth dropped open. She looked at Jareth, ready to peel her hands from the safety bar and throw them around him.   
  
He was sitting rock still, staring at the track ahead. As she watched, a trickle of sweat slid down his face.   
  
A cheer startled her, and she knew that the others were realizing that they were going to live. She kept watch over him, though, biting her lip as she tried to concentrate with him. She couldn't begin to imagine the effort it must be taking him.   
  
The car stopped on the block, sliding in almost too fast. It came to an abrupt stop right before it began the climb into the curves again, but then slid back into place.   
  
There were many hands to help unbuckled the passengers, many people to lend helping hands. Sarah was pulled almost bodily from the cart. She turned back immediately, bending down to reach for Jareth. She touched him, a mere brush against the white cloth of his shirt. "Are you okay?" She asked.   
  
He shook his head, looking at her in a strange, unfocused way. "Sarah," he said, voice almost thick.   
  
"Is he alright?" The man who had helped her from the cart asked. "Does he need medical assistance?" Sarah knew then that their death had been almost sure before Jareth's intervention.   
  
"He's okay," she said. "I'll get him out." The man nodded, hesitating a second before going down the line to the next passenger.   
  
"Come one," she coaxed, reaching her arm out. "Take my arm."   
  
He latched on, and her heart pounded when she saw that his hand was trembling. He stood, looking old and worn, and stepped from the cart. Sarah slid an arm around his back to steady him. "Here, there's a bench right on the side here." She told him. He stepped blindly. When they reached the bench, he slumped onto it, legs sprawled.   
  
"Jareth?" Sarah asked. She felt panic begin to beat at her chest. "Jareth," she repeated, a little louder.   
  
His eyes slipped open. They were washed out. A smile broke across his face. "You're all right," he said in a whisper.   
  
"Oh, Jareth!" She said, throwing herself against him. "You're okay!" She clutched at his shirt, riding the exhilaration for a moment before lurching up and glaring at him. "Don't you ever scare me like that again!"   
  
He laughed, a pitiful ghost of his usual mocking tone, "Would you prefer to have died?" He asked.   
  
She gulped.   
  
"Did you mean it?" He questioned, tilting his head ever so slightly. She knew what he meant.   
  
Heat rose. She nodded. The certainty of feeling was still there - a deep conviction that she did, indeed, love him.   
  
"Sarah!" A voice intruded. His eyes danced behind her, a frown of disapproval on his face. He smiled a bit when he saw who it was. Sarah turned to look.   
  
"Toby!" She cried. He threw himself against her, hugging her tight.   
  
"You almost died!" He said, wiping tears out of his eyes and sniffing.   
  
"I'm all right," she assured him. She patted his back. She wondered what the mad ride had looked like from the ground.   
  
"Sarah," her father came up, gathering her into his arms. He held her tight for a moment, his own breathing ragged, then gave her to Karen for a similar hug.   
  
Sarah leaned back against the bench and stared at her father, stepmother and brother. "What are you guys doing here?"   
  
"We saw you in the line and were waiting for you to get out," Toby supplied. He continued, eyes huge in his face, "It was so scary!"   
  
Sarah gathered him close for another fierce hug. "I didn't. I'm all right."   
  
He struggled free, and Karen pulled him close to her. "I'm glad." She said, reaching to try to smooth her frazzled hair.   
  
"So am I," Sarah groaned. She looked at Jareth, who was regaining some of his color.   
  
"Do you guys want to walk around with us?" Toby asked.   
  
Sarah shuddered. "You know what," she told her brother, "I think that I am all parked out for the night." She looked up at the roller coaster that still towered above them. The lines had been shut down. No one else was going to ride that monster today. "Thanks for the invite, though."   
  
"I tell you what," Sarah's father suggested, looking sideways at the man sitting beside his daughter. "How about if we take you out for dinner?" He looked at his wife, who nodded in agreement.   
  
"Sounds wonderful," Jareth said. He sounded a bit hoarse, Sarah noticed. He was pushing himself up from the bench. Sarah leaned over him.   
  
"Are you sure you're up to this?" She asked.   
  
His eyes flashed to hers; they were full of laughter. "Why, Sarah, are you worried about me?" He teased. She stared to get angry. Seeming to sense it, he put a hand on her arm. "I'm fine," he told her. "Just a bit tired."   
  
She bit her lip as he stood, smoothing the lay of his shirt and his hair. He held out his elbow. Sarah took it, looking at her father. "Are you sure it's not too much trouble?"   
  
"Where do you want to go?" He asked with a smile.   
  


* * *

  
"So, where did you meet my daughter?" Her father asked.   
  
Sarah looked at Jareth and found herself blushing.   
  
"We met a few years ago," Jareth said smoothly. He picked at the salad that had been deposited at their table a few short minutes before.   
  
Sarah glanced at Jareth, then stabbed a bit of lettuce from her own salad. "We work together."   
  
Jareth gave up the pretense of eating, balancing his fork on the rim of his bowl. "I am the Creative Director of a project that she is working on," he informed her parents.   
  
"Are you her boyfriend?" Toby asked.   
  
Sarah, Karen and her father all looked at him in varying degrees of horror. Jareth laughed, long and hard. "No, I'm her fiancé," he corrected.   
  
Sarah began to choke on her salad, and Karen sputtered, "You're getting married?" Jareth smiled, revealing very white teeth.   
  
Toby looked a bit blank for a second, then smiled as well. "Cool!"   
  


* * *

  
"Did you have to say that to them?" Sarah demanded, stalking toward a dark green minivan. Karen and her father had offered to drive them home and while Sarah had still been too stunned to respond, Jareth had smoothly accepted for both of them.   
  
"Darling," the man crooned, laying an arm over her shoulders. He leaned down to her, so close his breath was hissing in her ear. "Allow me to take advantage of whatever I can, please."   
  
Sarah shoved his arm off, feeling ridiculously childish. He easily claimed her hand, swinging it as her family came up behind them. Karen unlocked the sliding door. Toby jumped in, claiming the back seat. Sarah slid over on the first bench and Jareth scrunched in beside her.   
  
Sarah's father started the car and they were off. "We going to your apartment, Sarah?" He asked, glancing in the mirror to see her. He wore a smile, but still looked a bit shell-shocked.   
  
She nodded, still shocked herself. Jareth twined his fingers with hers, pulling her hand onto his lap.   
  
Karen twisted in her seat, smiling back at them. "I'm happy for you both," she said with a big smile.   
  
Sarah plastered a big smile on her face and kept it there until they got to her apartment building. She hopped out of the van, pushing Jareth out first. "Thanks for the ride, dad," she called to him. "I really appreciate it."   
  
Karen rolled down her window. "It was nice to meet you, Jareth," she said, waving a little.   
  
Sarah rolled her eyes, unable to believe how juvenile the whole situation made her feel. Just having Jareth around made her feel enough like a teenager! It was so hard to relate to him as an adult, she mused. She flinched when Jareth's arm was slung over her shoulder once again.   
  
"It was nice to meet you too, Mrs. Williams," he said gravely, making a little bow. Karen was flattered, smiling widely at Sarah as she rolled up her window and the minivan pulled away from the curb.   
  
Sarah whirled on Jareth, mouth opening to blast him with her temper, but she stopped. He was white, and wavering on his feet. His eyes were still lacking their normal intensity. Her anger evaporated.   
  
Without a word, she slid her arm beneath his shoulder and pressed him to her, resting her head on his heart for one guilty second. "Let's get you upstairs," she murmured.   
  


* * *

  
Sarah pushed open the door after unlocking it, heading straight for the shower. She had spent the past few hours doing laps around the nearby park, trying to think. Jareth had collapsed on the couch as soon as they had reached the apartment, and she wasn't surprised to see him still asleep.   
  
Once refreshed, she looked out of the window, over the horizon. It was getting late, the sun was sinking, painting the sky red. It reminded her of the sky of the Labyrinth. Was that, she wondered, where the Labyrinth was? In that place just beyond the horizon, where the red light shone all the time? She laughed at herself for thinking about it.   
  
It was Saturday. Usually, on a Saturday she would laze around, enjoying her weekend. Maybe go shopping. By this time of the evening, as the night crept up, she would be happily cuddled on her couch, watching some inane television show or another.   
  
Tonight, a Saturday, she was afraid to speak. She glanced at the still-sleeping man on her couch. Tonight she was keeping vigil over a king. A Goblin King. A refugee from a fantasy world. The man of her dreams who had, just hours before, claimed her as his bride-to-be. It didn't help any that this was just after he had saved her life.   
  
She sighed, leaning back against the window. "Why did he have to come back?" She mourned, wanting to cry. "Life was so simple." Her hand fisted, thumping against the wall. "Now..." Again, she blinked back tears. She turned toward the window, resting her cheeks against the cool glass.   
  
Hands slid around her waist, pulling her away from the window and turning her around. "I have been cruel," he murmured, cupping her chin in his bare palm. With one finger he gently pushed away the hair from her face.   
  
She looked up, and saw pain in his eyes as he saw the wet trails from her tears. The look caused a new wave of sorrow to crash over her, and the tears clouded her eyes. She heard a broken sound, and wiped frantically, wanting to see what was going on. His hand left her.   
  
He had twisted away, stood now with his back to her. "I'm sorry," he said stiffly, his back straight and tight. "I did not mean to call you pain." He stared out the window, his face reflected back into the apartment. "I will leave as soon as I can."   
  
Sarah swallowed a fresh wave of tears, biting on her knuckle. "I'm sorry," she whispered, coming up behind him.   
  
"You?" He whipped around, glaring at her. "You have done nothing, save tell me what I should have listened to in the first place - that I am unwanted in your life!" He laughed at himself, a bitter sound.   
  
"What?" She asked, staring. She would swear that there were tears in his eyes, but it wasn't possible... was it?   
  
"I have intruded in your life, Sarah. It is I who should apologize." He turned away again, voice falling to a normal level. "I have loved you for so long," he confessed. "It seems ages since I first saw you..." His mouth turned up.   
  
"What do you mean?" She asked, startled.   
  
He glanced at her once. "I saw you, where you were no more than a child, in my crystal. So strong, so beautiful. So stubborn. Then you called on me and I knew.....we were fated to be together." He shrugged.   
  
"Fated?" She struggled with the ideas he was throwing at her. "When I was a child?"   
  
This time he faced her, lips curled in self-mockery. "Have you never listened to the first words of that play? 'What no one knew was that the Goblin King was in love with the girl,'" he quoted. "The truth, more true than you could ever guess."   
  
She stared at him, frozen.   
  
The bitterness seeped into his eyes, still washed out. His face still wore the strain of the afternoon, making him seem almost vulnerable. "Don't worry," he told her, seeming to read the thoughts whirling through her head. "I have lived centuries alone, and I will no doubt endure many more in the same fashion. Of course," he confessed, "I still cannot leave. I am bound to this Earth until my two weeks runs out, or I am entirely empty of magic. Then the Labyrinth will call me back." His blue eyes were leveled on her. "I am sorry, Sarah, for causing you grief. You swore to me that you knew me... that you loved me." He paused. "I truly believed that we could be happy together."   
  
"Ask me again," she said, breaking into the silence.   
  
"What?" He asked, confused.   
  
"Ask me to marry you again," she said, heart welling inside of her. How could she have been so cruel, she wondered? Turned him down, again and again. How could she never have seen the devotion that was so clearly displayed for her now? The thoughts, the recriminations pounded in her head until she began to develop a headache. "I will marry you," she said, unwilling to wait for him to ask.   
  
He was already shaking his head. She saw, and fear shot through her. Was it already too late?   
  
"I will not. Not tonight." He stared at her. "I will ask you once more before my sojourn here is over. Once, and for all eternity, do you understand?"   
  
Sarah nodded.   
  
"I do not want your pity," he growled. "If you do not truly love me, then do not bother with protestations of affection." The kingly hauteur was back. "Now, if you do not mind, I am going out." He stalked to the door, throwing it open manually.   
  
She stepped forward. "Are you sure..." she began.   
  
His eyes were cold when they met hers. "Do not begin to baby me, either. I am not a child." His words were icy.   
  
She nodded again, and watched as the door slammed shut behind him.   
  
Then she ran to her room, where she flung herself on her bed and let the tears flow. She had a lot of thinking to do.   
  


* * *

  
She didn't hear him return Saturday, although when she awakened late Sunday morning he was sleeping on the couch. Even once he awoke, there was none of the light, teasing banter that she had begun to be accustomed to from him. He was rude and demanding. Somehow, though, she couldn't find it within herself to say anything to him.   
  
Over and over she thought about what he had said. Really thought about it. He was no child, as he was proving each and every minute of the day. Did she love him enough to deal with his temper, his self-righteous attitude? She asked herself over and over, debating every aspect of his argument ceaselessly.   
  
She did finish her project. Marcus set himself up in an empty cube nearby so that they could consult more easily. It was hard work - a welcoming distraction from her heavy thoughts - but it was finally done.   
  
All too soon, Thursday came. It was the final meeting with 'Mr. King.' The presentation was scheduled for the next day. Sarah awoke alone in her apartment and realized, with some trepidation, that Jareth had but two days left - Thursday and Friday. Before she left for work, she began to wonder when exactly he was going to ask again for her hand. She arrived to find a message from Marcus saying that the meeting had been moved up, and found herself hurrying up floors to get to the conference room.   
  


* * *

  
"It looks very good," Mr. King said, closing the last folder. He looked at Marcus. "You are prepared for tomorrow?" He asked.   
  
"We're ready," he said, glancing at Sarah.   
  
"Good," the platinum haired king-in-disguise nodded, preparing to leave.   
  
"Hey," Marcus called, "are you going to have dinner with us tonight?" He asked.   
  
Sarah, who had been mostly silent during the entire meeting, looked at her roommate hopefully, pleading with her eyes.   
  
Jareth sighed, knowing that he was lost. "I assume this is a tradition?"   
  
Marcus nodded. "Of course! At the end of the project, everyone gets dinner together to celebrate. It can be written off as an expense," he explained.   
  
"Ah." Jareth commented. "Where, and when?" He asked, resigned to the inevitable.   
  
"Around eight tonight," Marcus said, naming a pricey restaurant.   
  
Jareth nodded once more, glancing at Sarah, whose wide dark eyes were lit with happiness, and left the room. Once outside he cursed, leaning against the wall. His magic was waning, and he wondered - not for the first time - if he was going to make it through the whole two weeks.   
  
He heard Sarah's laughter coming closer, and pushed off from the wall, forcing himself to move to the elevator, closing it quickly. He had to make it. He had to.   
  


* * *

  
"This is great," Sarah said, glancing overhead at the high red curtains. She took a sip of her wine, swallowing the tart drink, and looked at the two men she was eating with. Marcus wore a nice suit, dark and bland. He looked like every other man in the restaurant. Jareth wore tight pants, a vest, and a blousy shirt, even gloves. The pants, vest and gloves were dark lavender. Sarah didn't know how he had gotten past the maitre d' dressed like that, but she thought he looked delicious.   
  
"So, what are you doing after this?" Marcus asked, looking at Jareth. "What does old Peabody have lined up for you?"   
  
Jareth smiled, the expression not quite reaching his eyes. "I'm going home," he said.   
  
Marcus sat up. "You're quitting your job?"   
  
Jareth took a bite of his seafood dish, rolling it around in his mouth without answering.   
  
"Where do you live?" He asked, the tone nearing that of a demand.   
  
"Far, far away," Jareth said finally. "Halfway across the earth."   
  
"Europe?" Marcus hazarded. He looked at Sarah, who was picking at her food, all joy gone. She didn't want to think about Jareth leaving, didn't want to think about the hole he'd leave behind, the life she now realized would be so empty without him. "Aren't you are Sarah... a thing?"   
  
Sarah looked up, eyes wide.   
  
"We certainly are not!" The reply was forceful and immediate. It brought tears to her eyes.   
  
Marcus' eyes narrowed, glaring at Mr. King. "I can't believe you would jerk her around like that!" He said, abandoning his half-eaten meal.   
  
Jareth sat, rigidly silent.   
  
"Sarah loves you," Marcus said, feeling his face redden. People were looking at him, but it didn't matter to him. "And you're just going to up and leave her after popping back into her life just long enough to torment her?" A snow-white napkin hit the table as Marcus stood. "I think you really better reconsider your treatment of her!"   
  
Jareth looked at the man. "I don't know what you have been told," he said icily, "but our relationship is really none of your business."   
  
Sarah watched Marcus turn red, and then saw a waiter hurrying up toward them. She put a hand on her friend, trying to calm him. The waiter whispered in his ear, and he nodded once. "Pay for me," he commanded Sarah, stalking outside. "I need to get outside, away from the stench."   
  
With one last ugly look for the cool Mr. King he stalked away. After a few minutes, Sarah could see him pacing back and forth outside of the restaurant, hands waving and mouth moving.   
  
"Like that man knows what a stench is," Jareth grumbled, picking at his food. "I can't believe he ruined a perfectly good meal." With a sigh he pushed his plate away and turned to Sarah.   
  
"What are you doing," he demanded.   
  
Sarah froze, she had been looking worriedly out the window. "I ... Marcus..." She stammered, motioning.   
  
"You're not thinking of going after him?" Jareth asked.   
  
"Please," she said, putting a warm hand over his wrist. "He's my friend."   
  
Jareth stared at her. She pleaded with him silently. He seemed to see something in her eyes, for he grumbled and looked away.   
  
Grateful, she turned and left, sparing one last look for the downcast king.   
  


* * *

  
The Goblin King set down his silverware, and just in time. His form wavered - the worst evidence of his waning strength. He clenched his hands, trying to keep a grasp on his increasingly insubstantial hands. Slowly, the feeling passed and he knew he had regained complete control.   
  
He looked in the direction Sarah had disappeared, picturing her face as she had turned to leave. As she had deserted him - for that mortal!   
  
Knowing it to be foolhardy, but seeing no other choice, he brought into being a handful of the papers that passed for currency in Sarah's world. He stalked to the front desk, threw the bills at the man standing there without counting them, and was swiftly out the door.   
  
Sarah and Marcus were still outside the restaurant, he noticed. He felt a grim smile stretch the skin tight across his cheekbones as he strode up to them.   
  
"Are we having a tiff?" He drawled.   
  
Sarah whirled to face him, flipping her hair out of her eyes. He swallowed down his admiration at the sight of her, tall and defiant under the bright glow of the streetlamp. Marcus sneered from behind her.   
  
"Are you too jealous to leave her alone for even a minute?" Marcus sneered. "How are you going to lave her here all by herself when you move so far away?"   
  
Sarah shot him a glare. "You're not helping!"   
  
Jareth took two more steps into the light. "No, he most certainly is not." His eyes narrowed as anger began to build within him. He felt the magic that held him together in Sarah's foreign world begin to fluctuate and he ruthlessly clamped down on it.   
  
"Look, he doesn't understand what's going on. He doesn't know who you are!" She growled, moving to stand in front of Marcus - to protect the mortal from his righteous royal wrath.   
  
"There is nothing to understand," he cut her off mid-tirade. "You are mine and you are coming home with me." He settled one hand on his hip, offering the other for her to grasp. "Now, come, Sarah Williams. Leave this petty, overly-familiar mortal."   
  
Indefinable emotions flashed through her eyes as she stiffened in the middle of her pool of light. "Did I miss a step here, oh mighty King?" She asked in all-too-innocent a tone.   
  
The anger exploded inside of him, and the magic strained at his self-imposed bonds. The wind began to whip around him and when he spoke his voice had dropped one octave lower. "Sarah," he cautioned in that dangerous tone, "you're acting like a child."   
  
"Me? Childish?" She asked, throwing her hands to the sky. "You're calling me childish?" She laughed.   
  
Jareth grit his teeth and growled, in the process losing his tenuous hold on the wild Labyrinthian magic of his soul. He flickered, and moaned at the strength of the pull. Sarah let out a short scream, running to him. Jareth grabbed at the shreds of his strength, catching onto her arms as she knelt before him. She was crying.   
  
"I'm all right," he assured her, trying to breathe normally.   
  
"What is this?" Marcus asked in a ragged, disbelieving voice.   
  
"Marcus," Sarah said, eyes widening. She tried to pull Jareth into her arms, to protect him from the other man's sight.   
  
Distracted, Jareth lost the fight. Blackness filled his vision and with a gasp he surrendered. He felt the world twist beneath his feet and the next thing he knew he was lying in a copse of leaves beneath the orange-red sky of the Labyrinth.   
  
He relaxed against the soft, familiar soil, soaking up the magic of his land like a dry sponge soaked up water.   
  
Soon enough, he knew, he would be strong enough to return to her world - for the few hours he could visit. It was a matter of three maybe four hours. The King of the Goblins, still lying in a dirty pile of leaves, closed his eyes and slept.   
  
  


* * *

"Am I supposed to believe that?" Marcus asked.   
  
Sarah, still stalking restlessly in the empty space behind her couch, looked at him. "You don't believe me?"   
  
He remained silent, looking almost lost.   
  
"I don't have a way to prove it to you," she said, half-laughing, "but I tell you, it's true."   
  
Marcus leaned back onto the two back legs of the chair he was seated on. "And you say our Mr. King, Mr. Peabody's Creative Director, is an immortal Fae king who came to the city to get you?" He shook his head. "Even you have to see how ludicrous this sounds," he told her.   
  
Sarah brushed a hand through her hair. "It doesn't matter how I see it," she told him in a mutter, "because it's true!" Frustration set in - she knew it was hard to believe, but surely he held some fantasy in his soul!   
  
She thought back to Jareth's collapse, his last reach toward her before he disappeared into the air. He would return - she felt it.   
  
"Maybe I should leave," Marcus began.   
  
Sarah looked at him. She considered pleading with him, trying to make him believe what he had seen - and what he hadn't. She knew she couldn't.   
  
"Go on," she agreed, waving toward the door as she collapsed into a high-backed chair.   
  
He looked at her, and she smiled at his obvious indecision. She opened her mouth, searching for something encouraging and witty to say... but froze.   
  
A vision bloomed before her inner eye. A pure white speck against a blood-red sky. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears and her breath caught in her throat as the white speck became a blotch, then was clearly identifiable. A snow-white owl, wings spread wide, the magic-fueled wind pushing him onward and upward.   
  
"Jareth," she said. The image was gone.   
  
She focused on Marcus' eyes, and saw annoyance jump into being. "Look," he said, tone less than nice, "I don't know what you're playing, but..." His eyes widened, his mouth dropping open. He started to backpedal.   
  
Sarah turned, heart pounding. The plate glass window turned to glittering shards as she watching, raining down on the carpet beneath.   
  
He flew into the room, transforming as he did so - so quickly it was almost instantaneous.   
  
The time it was Sarah who backpedaled, right into Marcus' chest. He caught her, but absently. All his attention was on the fantasy figure standing before him.   
  
He stood silent, arrayed in full king-mode. His hair was coiffed in flawless spikes, his eyes were shadowed neatly. He wore the black-on-black outfit that she had first seen him in.   
  
Sarah found herself stepping forward, hand outstretched to touch him. She forced her feet to still. "You're all right," she murmured.   
  
A smile cracked his rigid posture, and his eyes warmed as he shifted his attention to her. "Of course," he said, almost chidingly.   
  
Sarah realized she was grinning like a fool.   
  
"I'm dreaming." The dazed observation came from behind her.   
  
She whirled. "See!" She exclaimed, gesturing at the king who stood before them in his dark majesty. "I told you!" Again, she was astonished at how childish she felt, and knew it was due to Jareth's presence. She quashed the urge to stick out her tongue and spit...   
  
Marcus grabbed her arm, pulling her behind him. She let out a startled gasp and found herself facing his back.   
  
"What do you want?" He demanded.   
  
He's actually kind of sweet, Sarah thought. Protective. Then he spoke, making her heart pound hard against her ribs.   
  
"I want my Queen," he said in a mild voice.   
  
Sarah peeked over Marcus' shoulder. She wanted to jump out, tell Marcus to mind his own business and fling herself at Jareth, but somehow knew that the two males need to have this confrontation. She steeled herself to sit through it.   
  
"Everything was true? You're the Goblin King?" He stuttered, still keeping himself between Sarah and the man dressed in back. "You kidnap babies?"   
  
Jareth's brows, Sarah saw, came together. She could almost hear the snap as they collided. "I do not kidnap babies!"   
  
Sarah met his eyes, shrugging a bit. Her smile was definitely on the sheepish side.   
  
Jareth grumbled something under his breath, and Sarah was pleased that she couldn't hear it. It probably wasn't flattering.   
  
"I thought you kidnapped her brother?" Marcus probed, glancing at Sarah.   
  
"I did," Jareth affirmed, "but that's not what I do!"   
  
Marcus looked confused.   
  
"I grant wishes," Jareth said, punctuating the statement with a snap of his fingers. A crystal appeared in his hand. He proceeded to twirl it, spin it across his fingertips.   
  
Marcus was dutifully enthralled.   
  
"I can give you your dreams," Jareth promised him.   
  
"Jareth," Sarah barked, jumping to Marcus' rescue as she realized what was happening. It was all well and good to let the two of them fight it out, but they both had to play fair!   
  
Jareth looked at her, fingers never stopping. He smiled coolly, "Yes, my dear?"   
  
"You don't have to do this!" She told him.   
  
His mouth hardened, becoming a thin, flat strip. The crystal's dance became almost violent. "I don't have to do anything," he said haughtily.   
  
Sarah strove to look properly humbled, but failed. A laugh escaped.   
  
Jareth growled at the sound. He turned to Marcus. "I could entrap him forever, you know," he said tightly.   
  
"I know you could," Sarah agreed, coming close enough to touch him. "I also know you won't," she said with confidence.   
  
His eyes became shuttered. "Oh?" He drawled dangerously.   
  
Sarah leaned forward, one hand casting out, trying to grab the crystal he toyed with. He pulled it from her reach. Marcus' eyes followed the movement.   
  
It hurt. She turned her back to him, unwilling to let me see how much. She walked in a short, restless circle, pushing at Marcus' chest in a futile effort to break the spell he was wrapped in. There was no use.   
  
The tension escalated, leaving Sarah on the verge of wondering how she was able to breathe.   
  
"You needn't torture him," she said finally, daring to meet Jareth's blue eyes.   
  
"Oh no?" Jareth questioned. The crystal paused one brief second in its flight, then he regained his composure. A second crystal joined the first.   
  
One quick glance at Marcus assured her he remained ensorcelled.   
  
"I told you that he was not your competition," she reminded him, trailing one finger in a light path down a bone-pale cheek. She stopped, looking deep into his eyes. "Are you going to ask me again?" She prompted.   
  
He watched with those empty, cut-off eyes, mouth twitching slightly. "What can you offer me?"   
  
She was shocked, turned, mind searching frantically for a reply. Her gaze fell on the pulsing crystal he had set on her end table two weeks before and left untouched since.   
  
She grabbed it, surprised at the warmth of it. She had always thought, for some reason or another, of his crystal creations being cold and fragile. She had never before touched one, though. The heat and solidity of it were unexpected.   
  
She turned to face him, cradling her prize in one palm - a palm that twitched with the triumph swelling up inside of her.   
  
"Perhaps," she countered softly, "I can give you your dreams."   
  
Jareth had looked. He looked as caught as a deer in the proverbial headlights. "Perhaps you can," he agreed in an equally soft, if strained, voice.   
  
Confident, she twisted the crystal in her hand. It glided over her skin - she could almost hear the humming of the power it held. Its glow began to intensify, though not by much.   
  
She offered it to him, much as he had once offered her a very similar gift.   
  
He made no move to claim it - even leaned a bit backwards to avoid contact with it. The crystals in his hands clicked together.   
  
"What," she asked, bewildered. She thrust the crystal at him once more. "Don't you want your dreams?"   
  
"Of course!" He said, eyes flying to meet hers.   
  
She withdrew her hand. "Oh." Silence. "Let him go, please?"   
  
The crystals whirred in his hands, slowed, then stopped.   
  
Marcus shook his head, eyes blinking wildly.   
  
Jareth sidestepped him, coming up flush against Sarah. She looked up at him, clutching the crystal that warmed her palm in a tight fist. He was amused at the protective grasp.   
  
"Would you really give me my dreams, Sarah?" He asked.   
  
She answered without hesitation. "If I could."   
  
A smile crossed his face, he slid his arms around her waist and leaned down until his lips were almost touching hers.   
  
"Will you marry me, my soul mate?" The question echoed at once in her ears, her mind, and her heart.   
  
She felt herself smile widely, and flung herself against him. "Yes!" She cried.   
  
Triumph flared in his eyes, then his mouth settled on hers and the world disappeared, burned to ashes.... Burned as...   
  
Sarah jumped back as she realized it was her hand that was burning. She flung it wildly, yelping, trying to drop the crystal was that boring into her palm. Try as she might, she couldn't dislodge it.   
  
For a moment Jareth looked worried, but he quickly realized what was going on.   
  
Sarah stared at her hands. They were glowing! The crystal was vibrating, getting hotter, but she couldn't make herself put it down. She looked at the Goblin King. "Help me!"   
  
He took her shoulders, holding her, pulling her close to him. "It's all right, Sarah. It will be over soon."   
  
"What's going on?" She asked, then gasped as the crystal broke with a small poof.   
  
Her mind was filled with blurred colors, and she was engulfed in a warm, loving embrace. Light soared through her. She found herself in a bright place and looked around, seeing echoes of Jareth on every side. Each one wore a tender smile. Words were chanted over and over and after some straining she realized it was Jareth's voice saying "I love you," over and over.   
  
She sighed in complete happiness, only then realized that Jareth was still holding her in his arms. The brilliant white place had gone, but she knew that it was inside of her - that it had become a part of her.   
  
She looked up at him, and he smiled back down at her. It was an open, carefree, loving smile.   
  
"What was that?" A ragged voice asked.   
  
Sarah couldn't believe she had forgotten about Marcus! She pushed herself out of Jareth's embrace.   
  
"Are you all right?" She asked her friend. She looked at him closely. "Are you blushing?"   
  
Jareth came up behind her. "Maybe there was a bit of spillover," he suggested with a smirk.   
  
"Spillover?" Sarah asked. She had a sneaking suspicion of what that meant and found she didn't particularly like it. "What was in that crystal?"   
  
"My heart," he said simply.   
  
Sarah wanted to kiss him, to throw her arms around him and hug him tight. She actually took a step toward him with the intention of doing just that. Then she looked at Marcus' face.   
  
"Do you understand now?" She asked him.   
  
Eyes wide, he nodded.   
  
They looked at each other in silence, then Sarah found herself in his arms, tears at the corners of her eyes yet again.   
  
"I'll miss you," he said.   
  
"Me too," she confessed.   
  
"Sarah," Jareth said, holding a hand forward. "We should leave."   
  
She nodded. He still needed to recharge some. She placed her hand in his and nodded to Marcus.   
  
"What about the presentation tomorrow?" He asked.   
  
Sarah and Jareth looked at each other, smiling.   
  
"Don't worry," the Goblin King's voice echoed around the room even as he and his bride faded away. "We'll make it." Then they were gone.   
  


* * *

  
"Was dinner to your liking?" He asked, coming to stand behind her.   
  
Sarah smiled at him, then turned back to the landscape that stretched out beneath their bedroom window. Her bedroom now. "It was fine," she answered him.   
  
"What's wrong?" He asked, shifting her hair to one side. His lips settled on the curve of her neck, making her shiver.   
  
Sarah shifted from one foot to the other, leaning into her new husband's touch. She still couldn't believe it was true, though he swore that they had been married with her acceptance of his love. Everything had a sheen of unreality about it, a sense of fantasy. It was amplified by the strange, half-familiar Labyrinth she was looking at.   
  
Jareth lifted her into his arms - she shrieked in surprise. Laughing, he carried her to the bed, throwing her upon it. She sank deep into the pillowed softness. He leaned over her, crawling on the bed and peppering her face and neck with soft kisses.   
  
She laughed, but her gaze traveled beyond him. She focused on the dark velvet hangings on the bed, tracing the spiraled pattern imprinted on the fabric with her eyes.   
  
He noticed her inattention.   
  
"What's going on," he asked, playfulness disappearing.   
  
Sarah looked at him, pulling the warmth of his love without her close about herself. HE grew still, eyes darkening with concern.   
  
"I don't know," she confessed in a whisper. "It's just..."   
  
"Just what?" Jareth held her close. "Tell me."   
  
She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of being in his arms. The previous two weeks were fading slowly, as if they - and her world - were the fantasies.   
  
"Sarah," he said warningly, "It's a little late to be getting cold feet."   
  
Her eyes flew open. "Never!" She snuggled against him, planting a firm kiss on his aristocratic lips. "I love you."   
  
"Umm," he said, taking the kiss deeper for a brief space of time, then breaking free. "That's nice to hear."   
  
"I was thinking about how you saved my life," she confessed.   
  
He looked at her quizzically.   
  
"On the roller coaster," she supplied.   
  
"Did you want me to let you die?" He asked with a chuckle. "I know some culture's put much stock in such a happening, but I'm not going to insist you become my slave," he assured her in mock-seriousness.   
  
Sarah groaned. "That's not it," she said with a laugh.   
  
"You don't want to be in my debt?" He asked with a strangely attractive pout.   
  
Sarah hung her had, laughing helplessly. "Jareth!"   
  
He twisted her in his arms. "That's better."   
  
"You're being... tender!" Sarah exclaimed, clapping her hand over her mouth as soon as the words had escaped. "That didn't sound good."   
  
Jareth raised one lazy eyebrow. "Did you think I had no feelings?"   
  
"I didn't know what to think," she said. "I can't say I had really seen your gentle side."   
  
"That is true," he mused, tracing the curve of her eyebrow with a gentle fingertip. "But I am not an ogre."   
  
Sarah smiled. "I know." She sank into his kiss, reveling in each new sensation. She had kissed men before, but somehow, it had never before been like this.   
  
"What was that crystal, by the way?" She asked as the kiss broke off.   
  
"A soul crystal," he replied, quickly explaining what it was.   
  
Sarah frowned as she understood, sighing.   
  
"What is it?" The 'now' was left unsaid, but still clearly heard.   
  
"I had wondered if I could give one to you," she confessed, "but I suppose that's impossible."   
  
The look she saw in his eyes was priceless. Shock, surprise... love... all mixed together.   
  
He thrust his head against her shoulder, hugging her close. "Oh, sweet thing," he said raggedly. "I know you love me."   
  
They held each other close, hearing the shrieks and snorts of the Labyrinth's denizens penetrate the silence. From not-too-far below came the raucous laughter of his majesty's court of goblins.   
  
Sarah started with a particularly loud crash, sitting bolt upright in the bed.   
  
Jareth sighed. "You'll get used to it." He kissed the corner of her lips seductively. "Now... I'd thank you to remember we have a meeting to attend on the morrow, and that I am entirely too exhausted to re-order time this eve." His hand slid into her hair.   
  
With a giggle, Sarah acquiesced to his wishes. She was entirely pleased to do so.   
  


* * *

  
"It's a shame that ya'll are both going to be leaving," Mr. Peabody commented, shaking his head. He tapped the folder of the newly-approved designs with a blunt finger. "Ya'll make a mighty fine team - all three of ya."   
  
"Thank you, sir," Mr. King said.   
  
Peabody turned to him. "I'm happy for you, my boy, she's a pretty lady." He smiled at Sarah.   
  
"Well, I'll take my leave. Ya'll have managed to do exactly what I wanted. I'm more a cattle man, myself," he confessed, "but my late wife, now she was a reader. The line is name after her." He fingered the gold embossed letter on the folder. Melisande.   
  
"She always wanted to write," he said, "but she never got around to it." He shrugged off the melancholic tone that had crept into his speech. "Ya'll have done her proud," he congratulated them one more time, stuffing the folder in his genuine leather briefcase. "I'm sure that she'd be proud of ya'll for nabbing what you want, too," he looked at Jareth, then at Sarah, then went toddling through the door, leaving the silent group behind.   
  
"Will he remember us?" Sarah asked.   
  
Jareth shook his head. "He's already forgotten, I'm afraid."   
  
"It's time for both of you to leave, isn't it?" Marcus asked. He hadn't spoken much that morning, and still looked somewhat pale.   
  
Sarah nodded. "I think I got everything," she sighted. "My apartment?" She asked, looking at the Goblin King.   
  
"Everything had been taken care of," he assured her.   
  
"Well, that's it, then," she said, looking at Marcus. "Maybe I'll see you around some time," she ventured. They both knew it wasn't likely.   
  
Jareth nodded to the other man, and Sarah settled her hand in his elbow. "Come," Jareth said, looking down at her. Love shone from his eyes, and the magic trickled free.   
  
"Wait!" Marcus cried, jumping forward. "Take me with you!"   
  
Jareth dropped his hand, the transportation spell falling apart. "What?" He asked, incredulous.   
"Let me come with you," Marcus repeated.   
  
"You want to go to the Labyrinth?" Sarah asked.   
  
He nodded.   
  
Sarah glanced at Jareth, asking silently.   
  
"Do you understand what you're asking?" Jareth began. "I can't promise to ever return you, and there are monsters in my land as well," he cautioned.   
  
"Sarah said it was wonderful," Marcus said, undeterred. "It can't be that back if you live them. I have no family or friends to miss me." He paused. "Please."   
  
The king studied his would-be subject, then nodded decisively. "Take Sarah's hand," he instructed.   
  
Marcus did. Sarah held on tightly, smiling at her friend. "Just stay out of the bog," she told him as the magic engaged and they were whisked from the conference room.   
  
  


* * *

THERE IS AN EPILOGUE   
TO BE CONTINUED...........   
  
  
  


* * *


	12. Going Courting -- Epilogue

****

  


Going Courting - Epilogue   
By ACJ Leveille   


  


* * *

Marcus looked around the ballroom in awe. He still wasn't used to the amazing sights, though it had been almost a month since he had left Earth. There was always something new in this ruddy-skied land to surprise him.   
  
"I haven't seen you lately," the Goblin Queen commented as she came up to him. "What have you been doing with yourself?"   
  
"Exploring," he answered with a smile.   
  
"Ahh," she said.   
  
They sat in silence, watching the denizens of the Labyrinth cavort around the huge dancing floor.   
  
"So, Marcus," an upbeat voice began, coming up behind him. "How do you like my Labyrinth so far?"   
  
Marcus straightened, his decorated silver spurs clinking on his hard floor. Jareth had knighted him shortly after his arrival. The ceremony had been short, yet formal, though it had ended with a pat on the back and a hearty, "Welcome to the kingdom."   
  
"I love it," he told the king in a reverent tone.   
  
Jareth laughed loudly, causing eyes to look their way. "Perhaps you were right, my darling," he smiled at Sarah.   
  
"I won't say I told you so," she said. The song the musicians were playing ended, and the strains of a new one began.   
  
Jareth, listening, perked one brow. "My dear, I believe this is our dance."   
  
"I'll see you later?" Sarah asked Marcus.   
  
He nodded. "My Lady, your Majesty." He bowed - a move he had almost perfected in his month's stay in his new home.   
  
He watched them dance, Sarah was happier than he had ever seen her. He held no grudge. It was clear that she and Jareth were meant to be together.   
  
He turned to the open window. It was set high above the maze that was only a small part of the Goblin Kingdom. The red-orange sun shone high above, though the clock said it was past tenth hour.   
  
Far off, he could see the forests, and the mountains. A whole new world to explore.   
  
"I believe I shall like it here."   
  
  


* * *

Sarah whirled in her husband's arms, happy and free. "You didn't have to throw a ball," she chided.   
  
"Sarah, I've told you many times, I don't have to do anything." He kissed her nose as the music slowed, the twirled her. "I wanted to."   
  
Sarah laughed, swinging in a circle. Her elaborate ball gown swirled around her ankles.   
  
She glanced over his shoulder, and saw Marcus standing at one of the many windows, staring out. "Do you think we did the right thing?" It wasn't the first time she had asked.   
  
Jareth merely sighed. They twisted, and he looked at Marcus. Sarah saw something like amusement appear in his eyes. "I have a feeling that Sir Marcus shall do very well indeed," he said, turning his attention back to his wife. "And so shall we!"   
  
Sarah grinned, twining her arms around his neck as the dance ground to an end. "A happy ever after?"   
  
Jareth leaned in close - she could see herself reflected in his eyes. "Indeed."   
  
Their mouths met, and applause erupted across the ballroom, celebrating the love and commitment of the Goblin King and his beloved Queen.   
  
  
THE END   
  


* * *

Author's Note:   
  
Yes, this time it's at the end. What did you think? Let me know how much you liked it, or hated it! Yes, Marcus does have his own story, but I'm not going to work on it right away, I have too much on the burner already. Until next time!   
  
  


* * *


End file.
